Home
by Alamo Girl
Summary: For a Princess and a Tin Man, the most important adventure to come may lie in discovering where their hearts truly belong. Ch. 10 UP!
1. Now and Then

**Disclaimer**: As always, I own nothing concerning the SciFi Channel's "_Tin Man_", its characters or plots therein, nor do I own anything that has been taken from L. Frank Baum's stories. This is for entertainment only, no profit is being made. Please don't sue – I'm poor and I have to feed my somewhat needy and rather goofy paint horse.

**A/N**: This is my first attempt for a _Tin Man_ fiction. I really enjoyed the mini-series, and the original "_Wizard of OZ"_ is one of my all time favorite movies. I've read a few stories here, and yes, even before the show was over, I was pimping the DG/Cain 'ship. It couldn't be helped. I recognize that we are all going to touch on some similar themes throughout our stories, but I also like that we all have our own takes on their relationship and different plots in which to explore it. So, this is my contribution. I hope it lives up to expectation. PLEASE let me know how I'm doing. Thoughts, ideas, and constructive critiques welcome!

**Home**

**Chapter 1 "Now and Then"**

There were approximately one hundred and fifty other things DG would've rather been doing at that moment. Drawing? Oh yes, she most definitely missed her easel and box of pastel chalks. There had been many a morning – when the double suns were just breaking over the mountains in the distance, the first birds of the day were twittering in the willow trees lining the lake and the sky was the most brilliant explosion of violets, reds and oranges – and she would attempt capture the scene on paper, only to discover that she couldn't. What was the reason for living in a fairytale realm if one couldn't capture its beauty on paper in delicate pastels or gentle charcoals and grays?

Didn't help matters that there was a conspicuous lack of digital cameras in the O.Z.

She wished she could take a ride down some long, dusty road into oblivion on her motorcycle. The feel of the wind whipping across her cheeks though her helmet's face plate, the pull of the air against her much abused leather jacket as she gripped the handles and gunned the engine – the rumble of the motor growling beneath her and the landscape fading to a blur of corn field-yellow as she streaked along. Even the threat of Officer Gulch harassing her with speeding tickets didn't seem so bad anymore.

DG propped her chin in hand, leaning her elbow on the leg crossed under her and heaved a sigh. She missed her drawing supplies, she missed her artwork… and she missed her motorcycle. She'd been ticking off a growing list of things from her old life – a time she'd eloquently dubbed as "B.O.Z.": Before O.Z. – which she longed to have with her. Three months since the Double Eclipse, since she and her friends became the 'Saviors of the Realm', and DG found that her B.O.Z list was growing alarmingly long.

However, she made sure she told absolutely no one about it.

"Princess DG, please concentrate!"

The voice broke the princess from her melancholy musings and she started. The small wooden top that had been spinning madly in front of her had apparently begun to wobble drunkenly as her concentration wandered, and now flung itself from under her outstretched hand two feet away. It landed with a dull thud at the feet of a disappointed Tutor.

DG dropped her hand and met the eyes of the older man. "Sorry."

The Tutor bent and retrieved the top. Gone were the rags he'd worn, fresh out of the Sorceresses' prison when she'd first met him. He wore clothing befitting his station: tutor to the Royal family – maroon overcoat with pressed slacks and a starched white undershirt. While he looked the part, his determination with being her teacher could get rather suffocating, and DG had to admit that at times, she preferred him in his canine Toto form.

"You aren't concentrating properly," Tutor insisted as he stood over her. "These exercises are meant to cultivate your magic, so that you can learn to structure it." When she all but rolled her eyes, his voice dropped a notch in authority. "Your mother the Queen wants you to learn how to control you're magic, Princess. You have to re-learn all that you've forgotten and build upon what you already know. The Light within you is strong, and if you don't build upon the lessons-"

"Yeah, yeah. Alright Yoda," DG muttered. "Concentrate… use the Force… I get it." She flipped a strand of dark hair over her shoulder and picked at a blade of grass near her foot. Waving off the strange look the shape shifter was giving her, she went on, "I understand why I have to learn this stuff, it just seems like making toys spin around in front of me isn't the best use of this magic."

Tutor sighed. "I have already taught you some ways to use your Light for defense, Princes-"

"_DG_," she cut in.

"_Princess_." He squared his shoulders. "As I was saying, what I have taught you can be used for personal aid, but everyone's magic is different. A spell that works for me, may not work the same for you. So you must strengthen your ability to use and mold your magic to do as you wish."

As he paced around her, expounding on the different laws and addendums to using magic, DG looked out over the lake. The suns were making their downward track in the sky, the shadows around her lengthened as the afternoon wore on. The water rippled with the breeze that DG realized was getting quite a bit chillier. The leaves had fallen in the months that had past since her arrival, and though she wasn't sure about the season in a land with two suns, she figured winter was about to set in.

The snow on the mountains was creeping closer and closer. Soon, perhaps in a couple of weeks, the entire area surrounding Finaqua would be blanketed in snow. DG hoped it was a 'lighter' cold than the bone-numbing ice that had encased the Northern Palace in gloom the first time she went there.

Thinking back, DG remembered weathering quite a few snow storms in Kansas. She could remember squealing with joy when her parents (though now she wasn't sure what to call them, and "robo-rents" didn't seem appropriate) told her that school had been canceled again. She'd run outside with the neighbor's children to make snow angels, build snow men and wage the legendary War of the Snowball – complete with bunkers, teams and hot chocolate for the victorious.

DG wondered what her neighbors back on the Other Side were doing. Did they wonder what had happened to her?

"Princess? _Princess_!"

She looked up, only to be greeted by a very aggravated face. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

"What?" At that stunningly sharp reply, DG shook her head and stood. "Sorry, Tutor. I guess I was…"

"Day dreaming. That's all you ever seem to do lately! Don't you know how important your lessons are, Highness?" Tutor was valiantly maintaining the air of formality between them, but his tone had become less professorial, and more like a parent scolding an unruly child.

"Alright, so I have a few things on my mind! Sue me!" She glared at the man and pulled her jacket around her. "It just seems pointless to me for you to _tell_ me about ways my Light, or magic – _whatever_ – can be used for defense, but you don't _show_ me how to do it!"

"The _Queen_ has set these rules out for your lessons," Tutor replied lowly, as if the mere mention of her mother was all the explanation in the world for every argument. If the Queen says it, than thy will be done…

Rules. Regulations. Lessons-_this_ and royal duty-_that_. DG had about enough of this for one day. Actually, her patience for these lessons were growing about as short as the patience of a certain someone she knew – someone who happened to be galloping toward the palace, brown felt hat pulled low over steel-blue eyes and the collar of his duster pulled up around his neck to keep out the chill.

From her vantage point near the lake not far from her gazebo, DG turned at the sound of hoof beats and made out a grey steed at full gallop heading toward Finaqua's entrance.

He'd been gone this time for two weeks – to the far Eastern territory with a contingent of the Royal army as reinforcements for his son Jeb's resistance fighters-turned-Imperial military.

And he hadn't said goodbye when he'd left.

DG felt her chest tighten somewhat, anticipation awakened butterflies in her stomach. She quashed them. Something had changed between them in the months after the Eclipse – something awkward and stifling. His mood had never been exactly predictable, and her own darkening spirit of late hadn't exactly helped matters.

But even as she bade the Tutor goodbye, ending the disaster of a lesson with a quick jerk of the head, she made her way toward the palace – DG mentally added another number to the list of things she'd rather be doing.

Number one hundred and fifty one: She would rather go see _him_.

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The overly tall windows sent the late afternoon sunlight bouncing off the marble floors of the state room, lightening the gloom that once clung to the walls and furniture. Since the return of the Royal family, the Finaqua Palace seemed to have a renewed spark of vitality – everything sparkling and radiant.

Glitch took a moment to enjoy the sunlight before turning back to the piles of paper in front of him. "So much to do, too few hours in the day."

"I'm sure you will catch up in due time, Ambrose." The Queen laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, "We all have a lot of work to do before the realm is safe and in order."

Glitch's shoulders straightened as 'Ambrose' reappeared. "I have no doubt, majesty that things will return to normal quickly now that the kingdom is back under the rightful rule."

The Queen smiled her wistful smile. "I hope so."

"Although," Glitch continued, rubbing at the scar that lined his head where the zipper once was, "even with the other half of me…back with me again…it's taking some time for me to sort through all these records and charts. My filing system has been ruined! I'd love to get my hands on the Longcoats who trashed my invention records and…" His hands balled in frustration for a moment before he remembered.

Looking up, his face softened. "No offense, Az."

Azkadellia had been sitting on the chaise near the window, gazing out over the lakes silently. Her hair had taken on a less severe look, the sides gathered in rather ordinary clips, the rest cascading down her back like raven silk. Her clothes were softer too, gone were the metal, feathers and leather – replaced by a long-sleeved cotton dress in a royal purple. In her hand was the ornate cane she'd had made for herself after the Witch was driven out of her.

Like any parasite, the Witch had physically and emotionally drained the eldest princess – after being nearly bed-ridden for a month, Az was just now able to move around without the aid of a wheelchair. The cane gave her support when fatigue over took her, and she'd had it fashioned out of a light blonde wood, carved intricately with a clear crystal top. If she was embarrassed at being seen with a cane, she didn't show it.

Az turned and offered Glitch a wan smile. "It's alright, Glitch. I'm sure the Witch wasn't interested in tidiness when we-" she caught herself, "– _she_ – wanted all the blueprints to your inventions." She looked down, smoothing her dress as her mother came to sit beside her.

The Queen took one of Az's hands in hers and squeezed it. Az was still having a hard time differentiating from herself and the Witch. The guilt written on her face was constant reminder to most that she was not responsible for the Witch's actions, but she still found herself making comments that still sounded as if she and the Witch where one and the same. But, she was working on it.

"Don't feel bad, Princess," Glitch said, his voice warm. "I know what its like to have two people talking in your head." He rubbed at his scar with a goofy smile. "Sometimes I don't know where Ambrose ends and Glitch begins!"

Az's smile grew a little wider, as she always appreciated the Royal Advisor's attempts at levity. "They're both pretty extraordinary," she said. Glitch's cheeks colored, but their laughter was cut short when the state room door opened with a loud bang.

One of the guards strode in and bowed. "Majesty, the Tin Man has returned."

Close behind the guard, brushing off the dust from the road, Wyatt Cain entered. The Queen stood and smiled as he tipped his hat respectfully.

"Your Highness," he said by way of greeting.

"Mr. Cain, I'm so pleased you have returned from the East safely." She bade him to enter further.

Glitch looked up and smirked. He saw the way Cain's eyes flitted around the room, looking for the one face that was clearly absent. Glitch was almost sure he saw a flicker of disappointment in the Tin Man's eyes when the young woman he was looking for was nowhere to be found – he shook his head knowingly.

"Long time no see, Cain," Glitch caught his eyes and gave him a decidedly superior look.

Cain's brows furrowed at the advisor. His tone insinuated that he knew something, and was gloating about it. "Yeah. Hi to you too, Zipper-head."

Glitch pointed to his newly quaffed hairstyle. "News flash, Tin Man. No zipper! Had that fixed a while ago." He muttered, "Not that you'd ever noticed…"

Cain smirked, "Nah, I noticed. I just didn't think 'scar-head' had a good ring to it."

He ignored the indignant sound that came from Glitch and turned back to the Queen, who was patiently watching the two verbally spar with a smile.

"I bring news from the legions in the Eastern Mountains. The factions of Longcoats holed up there have been put down, for the most part, thanks to the army commander negotiating an agreement with the leader of the mountain peoples. I believe they are loyal to the crown." Cain pulled a long scroll from his coat and placed it on the desk. It was a transcript of the agreement between the Crown and the Eastern peoples with regard to the Longcoat factions.

"Your son is a true leader, Mr. Cain." The Queen bent over the scroll and smiled. "He had a wonderful role-model, too."

Cain's mouth twitched into a smile, but only ducked his head at the praise. Az had also moved to the desk and inspected the records over Glitch's shoulder.

"Looks as if there is a fair sized faction of Longcoats entrenched within the mountains," Az observed, looking at the map of the territories. Red dots were scattered throughout, marking areas of known Longcoat hideouts, and dotted circles where the areas were too dangerous to explore, but Longcoat activity was assumed to be. "There are too many areas to check out."

Cain looked up to the older princess and shrugged. "So we take them out one at a time. We lucked out with the Eastern mountain people – they were on our side since the Longcoats ransacked their villages. Might not be so lucky when it comes to the other territories."

"There's that optimism I missed," Glitch sighed.

"Just realism, Glitch." Cain turned and nodded to the Queen, "Jeb will do what he can, and with the supplies and reinforcements I brought, he should be alright for a while. But as he moves through the other territories, his progress will need to be monitored."

The Queen looked at the Tin Man for a moment. "Are you saying that you would like to be the, how do they say? _Go-between_ – for the palace and the military?" She knew he had not given an answer to the request she'd made not long after the Eclipse.

She'd made requests of all of her youngest daughter's companions once she'd seen how well they work together – after she'd seen the depth of affection DG held for all of them. Raw had taken the position as Emissary for the Viewer peoples and the Crown, and he spent most of his time at the palace. Glitch had readily taken his old job back, which allowed him to re-forge the link between his two estranged personalities.

But Wyatt Cain was the one whom the Queen had assumed would need no request made of him. She'd seen the fiercely protective glint in his eye when he looked at her daughter, the way DG seemed to find his side as if by instinct. Something had been forged between the two of them, and while she wasn't exactly sure as to the nature of that connection, she'd been positive the Tin Man would become the Royal Guardian to the Princess – no questions asked.

To her surprise, he balked. It had been an informal gathering – just the royal family and the trio. The Queen remembered Cain's eyes going wide, searching out DG's and locking. Her daughter seemed to be frozen in time for an eternity, before being the first to break the eye-contact. Then, Cain had drug his attention back to the matter at hand – politely asked to think about it, then took his leave. And all the Queen could do was wonder.

She stepped closer. "I appreciate all the work you've done, Mr. Cain – working with the military and your son to ensure safety throughout the O.Z. You've done a marvelous job, and I know you value the time spend with your son."

Cain's eyes lifted from the desk and removed his hat, holding it in hands before him. "I do, majesty. And I appreciate the time you've given me to think about your job offer..."

"But you have more to think on," the Queen said. Cain's face washed over with indecision, but she waved him off. "I understand, Mr. Cain. For the time being, we will allow your son to communicate with us on an 'as needed' basis. That way you can remain to…" she paused, a smile tugging her lips, "…think about which path your heart wishes you to follow." And with that, she left – a rather confused Tin Man staring after her.

Glitch's eyebrows shot up at that statement. He knew perfectly well why Cain was vacillating on whether to stay and be DG's full time guard dog, or command the military with his son. He was pretty certain, however, that Cain himself, hadn't a clue.

When he turned back, Glitch gave him a sarcastic look.

"What?"

"Smooth. Real smooth," Glitch muttered, crossing his arms. "I wouldn't think this would be a hard decision, Cain."

A growl emanated from deep in Cain's chest. "I don't remember asking for your input."

"Well you should!" But Glitch flinched when Cain's hand came down flat and hard on the map in front of them.

He pointed a finger at the squirrelly inventor, "Look. I sugarcoated it for the Queen. It's still plenty dangerous out there, Glitch. Zero has rounded up former Longcoats and has pretty good recruitment stats for new ones. Their side still has impressive numbers, and the Royal military needs all the help it can get."

Just as Glitch leaned in with a suitable rebuttal, Az made her presence known – and from the way Cain's head snapped to attention, he'd forgotten she was even there.

"You're right, Mr. Cain," her voice held some of the old resilience, though she leaned on her cane. "The O.Z. is still a perilous place for all. Especially the Royal family. From the look of this map, the number and size of the uncharted territories is greater than the ones marked as 'friendly'." She ran a painted nail over the grey areas, the ones that held little symbols for danger or extreme caution. "There are still monsters about, Cain. As you said, evil still has a strong foot-hold."

"Don't worry," Glitch said, placing a hand on her forearm and smiling. "We'll look out for you, Princess."

Az covered his hand with hers and smiled gently at him. Cain's brow rose suspiciously at the look passing between the two, but said nothing.

After a moment, she let go of his hand and grasped her cane. Az leveled her eyes at the Tin Man opposite her, making sure he read her meaning implicitly.

"It is not me that you should be worried about protecting." She left the two men, her cane clicking on the marble floor.

"Ah, hell," Cain grumbled. "I didn't mean for it to sound like civil war is about to erupt and some dragon is about to attack the castle!"

Glitch huffed, "Sure sounds like it to me. Besides, you've been gone so much since the Eclipse, how would you know how safe DG is?"

Cain's mouth pressed to a thin line, his eyes going a shade darker. His voice lowered a full octave, causing Glitch to shift his once defiant stance.

"She's safe as long as _I'm_ around."

Glitch couldn't help himself. "Hence me bringing up your frequent absences…"

"Look, _head-case_," Cain growled, "I only left when I had to, and now I'm back!" There was a miniscule pause, as he thought about the Queen's words (though his own came out harsher than he meant them) "…Apparently back for a while. I've never dropped the ball when protecting DG, and I'm not about to start!"

"So…is that a yes to becoming DG's guardian?"

Cain's ire diminished, but he chose to look over the map as he answered. His voice had lowered, but softened. "Just… don't worry about that now. I'm here to take care of the kid, that's all that matters."

"The _kid_ can take care of herself."

When the men turned, DG was standing in the doorway – arms crossed protectively over her chest, grass stains on her pants legs and hair mussed from the winter wind. Cain couldn't help the warm feeling that spread over him upon seeing her. It seemed like he hadn't seen her in months – the ache in his chest signaling how much he'd missed seeing her expressive face.

Though now, that face he'd missed was anything but welcoming. Still, he casually put his hat back on his head, running his fingers in a flourish across the brim, tugging it lightly in her direction in greeting. He let his eyes travel down her body for a moment, a totally involuntary act – the meaning of which was something he didn't want to contemplate at the moment.

His smile was slow, as if he knew something mischievous.

"Hey there, Princess."

**TBC…

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**_NEXT CHAPTER COMING SOON_**! Well? How'd I do so far? Like it, hate it? Want to send flying monkies - or MoBats after me? Let me know! **Please REVIEW and feed the author's need!**  
Thanks to beta Mark Clark!


	2. Unwanted

**Disclaimer**: See previous chapters. I own nothing except this plot. All usage is for fun and non-profit.

**A/N**: Wow! If I'd known I'd get this wonderful of a response, I'd have written a _Tin Man_ story a lot sooner! Thank you all so much! Your reviews have spurred the Musey-poo into action a lot sooner than expected, something that doesn't happen often. PLEASE KEEP UP THE REVIEWING and tell me your likes/wants/thoughts/whatever for this story. They really do feed the Author's need! Enjoy this chapter…a little more DG/Cain!

**Home**

**Chapter 2 "Unwanted" **

She'd seen him enter the palace, his strong, purposeful stride unmistakable even though she was still a fair distance away. DG slowed as she entered the palace walls, her necessity to see Cain suddenly taking a back seat to a burgeoning nervousness. The butterflies she'd quashed before returned with a vengeance, and DG found herself fidgeting with the hem of her coat.

Deciding that putting off their reunion might be the better course of action – for she couldn't, at that moment, think of a _thing_ to say to him – DG chose to simply take in his features from a distance as she slowly followed him. The breadth of his shoulders always seemed larger when under his long brown coat. Perhaps it was the cut of the garment, or the way he held himself: strong, honorable…brave.

Watching Cain, DG realized that the way a man carries himself tells a lot about their character. Whether in the heat of battle, infiltrating a hostile fortress or simply taking the lead while they journeyed down the Old Brick Road, she'd never seen Cain's body language project anything but confidence and power. She remembered how something warm and glowing steeled her resolve during the most frightening trials of her adventure, every time she looked at him.

Thinking back on that, and watching the (she secretly and grudgingly had to admit) rather attractive backside of the Tin Man retreat into the state room, DG allowed herself a small smile. He _was_ back… and if the way her heart was speeding up was any indication, she _had_ missed him.

There last encounter had been strained – he'd received word that Jeb needed reinforcements, and while that was enough to keep him preoccupied, he'd been almost short with her when she tried to ask him about the trip. DG knew he hadn't given the Queen an answer about becoming the Royal Guardian of the Palace, and she wanted to ask him about that too – but he'd brushed her off.

It had stung, no matter how much DG tried to hide it. She'd been feeling left out – barely able to spend time with her three friends for all the royal smothering she had to now endure. She was hounded day and night by tutors, servants, dress makers, and all other manner of princess-ly hullabaloo – it was maddening! Thoughts of home were invading her mind more than ever…and most of all… she wanted someone to talk to.

Wyatt Cain had always been her first choice. He'd never judge her, only listen and give advice when needed. She used to love the compassion she saw deep within those cool blue eyes of his – and occasionally, though her mind may have been playing tricks on her, she thought she saw just a little something more simmering beneath his gaze.

But before he left, he'd been distant toward her. And with her own emotions frayed, she'd taken it to heart – probably behaving a bit coolly toward everyone.

As DG neared the state room door she couldn't help but hope that perhaps, since he'd been able to spend the last two weeks with Jeb, and that maybe they both had needed a little time apart, things would be better.

The voices in the room caused her to halt just outside the door. DG knew it wasn't nice to eavesdrop, but with the way sound echoed in that place, sometimes one could do little _but_ overhear.

The discussion about the state of the Royal influence in the Eastern Mountains was surprising. She didn't realize Zero had rounded up that many recruits. The raving psycho must have had better people skills than she gave him credit for.

She imagined what the map Az referred to must look like: something out of the seventeenth century with dragons and monsters marking the uncharted territories. From the way Az was talking about the O.Z. these days, it sounded as if someone should write _"Beware! There be Monsters here!"_ all over half of the map. Something in DG that longed for a change to the doldrums of royal society perked its ears up at the thought of charting the unknown.

Her mood fell like a stone, however, when she heard her mother address the issue of Cain's future station. The Queen had again queried him about becoming the Royal Guardian – DG held her breath. When his answer came out stilted and unsure, she realized how immature she was being. As she listened to them discuss whether or not he should have a more 'mobile' role between the military and the crown – she felt her chest pinch with bitterness.

To her, it sounded like he wanted his carefree loner-life back – able to come and go as he pleased, do his job and nothing more. _And who am I to deny him that_, she wondered.

After hearing her mother and Az exit through another door, DG considered going in. But her heart had sunk along with her hopes that Cain might be glad to see her. It didn't sound like he wanted to come back to the palace at all – he'd much rather be out rough-riding with Jeb and the cavalry.

"_Sure sounds like it to me. Besides, you've been gone so much since the Eclipse, how would you know how safe DG is?"_

DG's head snapped up from her morose thoughts, Ambrose clearly ringing through Glitch's voice. He sure had come a long way from his stuttering days, though once in a while, it was clear that a circuit or two were still off.

The low growl in the Tin Man's voice made her spine tingle. It always seemed to have that effect on her, though she was loath to admit it.

"_She's safe as long as I'm around."_

That statement should have made her blush. There was a time when such a proclamation – powerful and adamant – coming from a certain Tin Man would have made DG's knees a little wobbly. It was a statement full of the bravado befitting the fairy-tale world she was a part of now, and once upon a time she might have even given into the hyperbole of the moment.

But all the statement aroused in the princess right then was indignation. Closing her eyes against the wave of emotions – the strongest of which being anger in herself for foolishly believing that the man who'd guarded her safety through her first adventure, would ever care about sticking around afterward – she rested her head against the cold stone wall. Perhaps she really didn't mean that much to him…other than a ward to be looked after.

DG was too hurt to cry, and even if the tears pricked her eyes, there was no way she'd let Cain see them. He'd said something about being back… _for a while_ – his tone obvious that this was something he wasn't looking forward to – DG shook her head and nearly laughed at the irony. Her suspicions were true, it seemed.

But when he refereed to her as "the kid", yet again, something brittle inside her snapped and she strode into the room.

"The _kid_ can take care of _herself_," she said coolly.

When Cain turned, giving her the roguish tip of the hat and that irritatingly handsome half-smile, she had to avert her eyes. He _did_ look like he was glad to see her, and that only poured salt in the wound. After what she'd heard… DG chewed her lip, then feeling the ire welling again within, brought her eyes to his.

"Hey there, Princess."

She damned him for sounding so nonchalant, so at ease, so familiar – the phrase she'd loved to hear coming from him, as though it were private and special, meant only for the two of them. Her heart winced.

Glitch broke the silence that followed Cain's greeting. "Oh! Hey DG! Through with your lessons already?"

DG shifted her weight to one hip. "Yeah. I dismissed class early today. It was going nowhere anyway." She looked down and muttered, "Sort of like a lot of things in my life right now."

Cain's smile fell a notch and worry entered his face. "Something wrong, kid?"

Though she knew he meant it only as an expression of concern, DG tilted her head and squeezed her eyes shut, as though the effort of speaking with him was physically painful. It was.

"Don't," she bit out, "_Don't_ call me that. Please." When Cain opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, she moved across the room to the map table. "I'm sick of being called that. I'm not a _kid_, Cain."

She could feel Glitch shifting nervously next to her while she looked over the map of the O.Z. He looked back and forth between the princess and Cain, the latter wiping the shock off his face and replacing it with a mask. Concern still emanated from Cain's eyes however, and Glitch knew DG had struck a blow – he just wasn't sure if he needed to start ducking as well.

Cain cleared his throat. "Sorry…your _Highness._"

At that, DG sighed through her nose, her brows drawing together and Glitch decided that a hasty retreat was needed before the two of them started exchanging fire.

"Well…uh… you know? I think I have some things to be taking care of," Glitch started back-tracking, "In fact, I know I do! Research, filing…"

Cain sent him a glare that meant "_stumble over your excuses faster and get the hell out_." Glitch nodded but before he left, he put a hand on DG's shoulder.

She looked up at him, surprised, and he whispered, "I know you're mad…about… _something_…but he _did_ miss you, you know."

DG fixed her gaze back on the map before her, now completely alone with Cain for the first time in weeks – multitudes of words tumbling over themselves inside her head, all screaming to get her attention.

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Cain's foot falls echoed ominously throughout the room. DG stood still, pretending to look at the map as he came up to her side, studying her posture. He could see the strain in the set of her jaw, the anger radiating off her like heat waves on a sun-scorched sidewalk. But above the tension, Cain could feel her warmth, the lightness he always felt when close to her permeating his being.

It had been too long. For the life of him, he couldn't remember the last time he stood this close to the young princess, and it bothered him. But he could, however, remember the feelings that had been swirling in his brain the day he rode out for Jeb's camp – the events that led up the stifling awkwardness that surrounded them now.

Being too close was dangerous – for the both of them. Just before he left, she'd tried to talk to him, and he knew she'd needed him for something – even if it was just to open up. The spark had dulled in her eyes over the past few months, but Cain had just attributed it to the pressure of becoming princess. They'd locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity – until Cain broke the contact rather harshly, tamping down the feelings roiling within and hoping his ears weren't burning.

With word from his son about the growing numbers of Longcoats, the lawman in Cain ached to get back out and deliver justice – not to mention the growling animal he kept caged within his soul that yearned to get a hold of Zero one last time…

But that still didn't explain the flurry of emotions he had to deal with every time he was face to face with the forceful, sometimes out-spoken and always confusing youngest princess. And while Cain had dealt with many a scary thing in his life, this was something new and strange. Cain had never dealt with _'new and strange'_ very well…

Cain watched DG for a moment more before venturing to ask, "So, how are your lessons going these days? The Pooch still droning on about the _light flowing_ and all that?"

There was a smile in his tone, and DG felt a little knot of tension in her shoulders ease. He always did have a way of settling her down, even when _he_ was the one who'd riled her in the first place.

"Always," she said. "He still thinks I'm not ready to learn defensive magic yet, even though I know I can do the spells."

Cain smiled somewhat. "Well, some of that mumbo-jumbo could be dangerous – even to the one who's performing it." He watched her scanning the dark parts of the O.Z. map. "There's enough out there for me to worry about without you trying to blow yourself up."

"There it is again!" DG's voice rose, she leaned hard on the table and looked up from under dark bangs at him. "What part of 'I can take care of myself' don't you people understand? All I ever hear are people telling me what I can and can't do. Don't do _this_ DG… its not like a princess to do _that_, DG… as a princess you are expected to _be_ _this_, DG!"

Cain could do little but stand by and let her rant, understanding her frustration but not knowing how to comfort her. He'd been around enough royalty to understand the suffocation that comes with it. He'd worried what kind of toll it would take on DG.

"Hey, we're just looking out for you, DG."

Her arms flew out wide. "Yeah! I've heard that one too! When do I get to decide for myself?" She slumped in the desk chair and the pitiful set of her shoulders made Cain's chest tighten.

She ran a finger over the grey area to the right of the Northern Palace, her voice was hushed. "Back home, I was totally responsible for myself. I got myself to work, I paid my bills, and I fixed anything mechanical that Dad couldn't." She glanced up at Cain. "But here… it's like…I can't do anything right. Not the way everyone expects me to do it, anyway."

A part of Cain, the part who loved independence and self-reliance, understood her. But the other part – the one who'd protected innocents from things they couldn't possibly imagine all his life – only wanted to shield her.

Something in the way she said "back home" tugged at a string in his soul. "I don't think anyone expects you to be perfect, DG. But there are things that your aren't ready to deal with alone." He leaned in on the desk, drawing her eyes to the dark areas of the map.

Without thinking, as if his hand had a mind of its own, he reached out and stilled the finger she was using to trace over the grey area near the Northern Palace. Her hand was small and cool under his, for a moment he simply marveled at the way it fit under his fingers.

DG went rigid under his touch. Once she'd held his hand easily when she needed his stolid support, though now, a frightening flood of emotions came with the skin-on-skin contact.

Staring at their joined hands, Cain found his voice. It was softer, sincere. "You don't know what's still out there. I _do_. Zero is amassing forces all over the Western mountains. And even though the Witch is gone, there are plenty more _nasties_ out there to take her place."

DG swallowed shakily and pulled her hand slowly from his grasp. Cain ignored the way the loss of her touch felt.

"I'm well aware that this world has all manner of crazy things lurking around. But at least… _before_… people gave me the benefit of the doubt. Life is all about learning and experiencing. Here, all everyone wants to do is _avoid_."

Cain heard the timber of her voice change when she, again, mentioned her life before coming to the O.Z. And he also couldn't help but get the subtle hint – the double entendre behind her avoidance remark. _Glitch had hinted at the same thing,_ Cain thought sourly. He hadn't been avoiding anything – he'd been doing his job! But deep down, he knew in his heart of hearts that protecting DG was no mere job. It had become something more, though he knew he shouldn't and _couldn't_ explore that possibility – at least not now.

Frustration took over. "I don't know how things worked on the Other Side, DG… but I _do_ know the O.Z. So you're going to have to trust me when I tell you that it's best you follow Tutor's advice on the magic."

DG stood, looking incredulously at him. "Why don't you just restrict me to the palace? Since you seem to know what's _best_ for me…"

"I may just do that, _Princess_," Cain shot back. His fists balled, but he set them at his hips pulling his coat back over his guns in an unconscious show of authority. "Look," he tried, "I know things have gotten tough for you around here, but–"

DG audibly scoffed. "Oh please. How would you know anything that has been going on around here, especially about _me_? You haven't been here!"

When his hands fell off his hips, his face melting into guilt and he started to justify his actions, she cut across him.

"I know, I know… you had to go facilitate our forces in the territories. And you know what, Cain? I understand that. I really do. You are really great at the _military leadership_ thing."

He sighed and shook his head. "You sure don't sound like you understand much of anything, Princess." His voice lowered, and he searched her face. "I have a duty to ensure the safety of this realm, not just what's behind these walls."

Once the words left his mouth he regretted them – DG's eyes lowered, all the defiance replaced by sadness. Suddenly tired, Cain pushed his hat back on his head and sighed.

"DG, I–"

DG spoke up, crossing her arms over her chest, "I didn't mean to imply that your duty was to the Royal family alone, Mr. Cain."

The use of his formal name made him cringe.

"What I meant was that while I understood that you had to leave, I _don't_ understand why you couldn't talk to me about it," she said. Her eyes met his, tiredly, "Or why you couldn't say goodbye."

He swallowed. "I'm sorry. Things just came up…I guess." It was lame and he knew it.

She nodded, setting her jaw. "Well, you don't have to worry about me. I took care of myself pretty well for twenty six years before I came here. I can keep on doing it. If you're needed elsewhere, go on."

At this, Cain wiped a hand over his face, exasperated. "Ah _hell_, DG! You can be so damned _infuriating_ – I'm not GOING anywhere!"

DG's cheeks flamed in anger again as she shouted, "Well I don't _need_ you here!"

There was a moment when she seemed to have shocked herself with the statement, and even though Cain knew she didn't mean it, the sting burned all the same.

"Well, I don't care _what_ you _want_," he rumbled. He faced her down, and to his surprise she didn't back away – but stared defiantly back into his eyes. "I'm _staying_. So if you think you're going to go out looking for trouble to get into just to prove yourself… _think again_, Princess. I won't be far behind you."

DG lifted her chin. "Think you know me so well, do you?"

Cain leaned in, bringing his face only a foot from hers. He was close enough to see the anger crackling within her blue eyes, and he'd be lying if he didn't admit that he found it attractive. He'd always found women the most attractive when they were angry. That thought made something stir in his belly and he quickly reined his mind away from that line of thinking.

Pulling his hat low on his brow again, Cain's lips pulled into a smirk. "I know you."

It was a simple declarative statement – no room for misunderstanding. Oh he knew her alright – knew her penchant for getting into trouble – and he wanted to make it clear that she could pull nothing over on him. Cain knew he'd let his temper get away from him, but a fuming DG seemed to have that affect on him.

So when the nearest bookcase clattered to the ground and both sets of double doors to the room slammed shut with a deafening boom, he barely flinched. DG had been learning to move things with her magic for a while, but this was the first time she'd moved multiple things – heavy things – in the heat of emotion. DG jumped a little, startling even herself with the display of magical energy that she obviously wasn't trying to control.

Taking a step back and a steadying breath, DG glanced around. The three-tier bookshelf lay on its side, books piled around it exploded like confetti. Her face lost a little of the flush of anger, and Cain swore she looked weary. Perhaps using magic when her emotions were high was physically taxing…

He started to reach out to her, to ask if she was alright – but she pulled away, her brows lowered. Something shut off, like a door closing between them and Cain could feel icyness set in. If he wasn't so frustrated with her he might have said something.

But DG looked at him with a resigned finality he didn't quite understand.

"No," she said finally, her voice hollow. "You don't really know me."

His eyes linger in the spot she'd vacated, the sound of the door closing reverberated through his being. When had things become so shut-off between them? Why was she fighting him, tooth and nail, when she knew that everything he did was for her safety?

Why did he find himself thinking and feeling all these strange emotions around her all the time, like he wasn't comfortable in his own skin – and being near her rendered all his senses null? He hated himself for talking to her like her wishes didn't matter…like she was a job, nothing more.

And he hated that she was hurting and wouldn't tell him what he could do to help. If he _could_ help… seemed to be the question. Lately he hadn't been the best of friends to her, and he knew it. Why had everything become so damned complicated?

Cain closed his eyes, trying to tamp down the anger, frustration and bone-weary fatigue of the last few weeks. His teeth ground together, hands fisted – before his brain caught up with this body, one of his boots came out and struck the heavy desk, a fierce growl tearing from his chest.

The weighty, dark wooden behemoth did a full flip before landing with a crash of splinters and paper. Heaving steadying breaths, Cain looked at the damage.

He straightened his hat and said a little prayer that the Queen would understand why one of her desks fell victim to his rage. DG had a way of getting to him… _that was for sure_…

"Dammit," he muttered, just before the guards came through the doors to ask why the Tin Man had unleashed his wrath on defenseless office furniture.

**_TBC…

* * *

_**Stay Tuned - NEXT CHAPTER SOON! Well? Like more DG/Cain? Too much angst? Not enough? Hated it completely? Let me know! Push that review button and Feed the Need!!


	3. Smothered

**Disclaimer**: See previous chapters. I own nothing, so don't sue me. I don't even have the _Wizard of Oz_ on DVD yet.

**A/N**: I am beyond ecstatic with the response this story has generated! Believe me, the last couple of stories I've written didn't get this kind of immense feedback, so I THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for all the kind words and encouraging reviews. This chapter will deal mainly with DG, her training/rebellion and homesickness, and Cain fumbling through it all with her as we work our way toward the Mid-Winter Ball. Enjoy and as always KEEP those REVIEWS Coming!

**Home**

**Chapter 3 "Smothered"**

Nightfall in the O.Z. was truly something to behold – if one was from a time and place with only one moon rising in dusky skies every night. The first moon of the early evening was peaking its head above the Western mountains, trailing the second sun's dying rays with a bluish-grey light. DG had noticed since the Double Eclipse that the normal routine of the celestial beings was rather like a game of chase: two suns make their jaunt across the sky in daytime, but by evening the first moon has already broken the horizon before the last sun has dipped below it. This left an odd picture of having a sun and a moon sharing the sky at the same time. But as soon as the first moon would reach its pinnacle, the second one would be close behind it.

During the Eclipse, however, the first moon remained in the sky for an extended period of time allowing the suns to crisscross behind it. DG still hadn't figured out how _that_ happened – how the O.Z. world seemed to have a topsy-turvy rotation or how it was possible to even _have_ two suns and two moons. She'd never been that great in science, and preferred to think that her knowledge of astronomy went only as far as knowing that she was a Leo.

DG stood at the enormous window in her bedroom, watching moon number one pull a blanket of stars behind it as it pushed the remaining sunlight out of the sky. Somehow, these moons just didn't seem as full as she remembered the one in Kansas being. Harvest moons were her favorite: huge, glowing – almost like the Man in the Moon was grinning down on her. As a child, she'd wondered what the Man in the Moon did all day while the sun was out, and if he was lonely.

He had to be lonely up there…all by himself. DG sighed and turned away. She'd allowed the servants to take her mussed up outdoor clothes, and now opted for a pair of soft cotton pants and a long sleeve top that was two sizes too big. She'd refused the dressing gowns that were proffered – she'd always slept in pants or shorts and wasn't about to change.

DG looked around her room. Big, airy…and void of anything she could really call her own – save for the little doll with the green dress Tutor had given her. She'd never played with dolls much in Kansas, but she did have a few memories of making the little thing twirl magically with her sister.

Pulling the slouched shoulder of her sweater top up, she sat at her vanity table and looked at herself in the mirror. Running a hand over her face, she muttered, "Wow. Look like hell, much?"

Dark circles made her large blue eyes look sunk in. Perhaps that was why her mother and Ahamo had been casting worried looks her way for the past week or so – constantly asking if she was well…was she sleeping…

Apparently not. And it was showing. DG remembered that many nights of attempted sleep in the past week being broken up by haunting dreams of her journey to find the Emerald. She'd seen some strange and down-right frightening things on her journey – each one had replayed itself through the movie theater in her mind's eye. Each of these scenes would end with her jolting upright in sweat and fear, only to be replaced when she lay down again by scenes of her life back home.

For all the times she felt like she didn't truly belong in Kansas, she couldn't deny that she had a relatively happy life there. Her adoptive father and mother had always taken care to encourage her to follow her instincts – whether it be taking time to draw the intricately described stories her father regaled her with at bed time, or tackling the most irreparable of mechanical monstrosities. Even if they didn't always agree with her methods – particularly when those methods ended with DG up against a certain police officer – they always let her come to her own conclusions.

And now, as DG felt herself being slowly curtailed at every turn, she was immensely thankful to the droids who raised her.

Staring into the mirror, DG felt an unbidden urge to see her Kansas home fill her insides. She didn't even know how much time had past since she left. Was her home still destroyed by the traveling storm, or had someone new rebuilt and made it their own?

Things changed so quickly in the O.Z. Could anything still be the same on the Other Side?

Something flickered in the mirror – a spark of light and colors swirled in the center for half a second before winking out. For a moment, DG thought it was just a figment of her imagination and she sat straight up in her chair.

The smooth glass of the mirror seemed to enter a state of flux again, swirling and glowing. This time, like a television scanning stations, DG could see images appearing briefly amongst the swirling colors. Leaning in, she could barely make out buildings… a sky-line… some sort of roadway…

"What the-?" DG was about to assume that someone or something had possessed her furniture, when the static of lights and colors melted away to reveal a crystal clear scene.

All breath left DG's chest. Before her, a rolling landscape of golden wheat sprawled over gentle hills. The image looked to be scanning in on something just over a hill, nestled between oak trees. DG knew exactly where the mirror was taking her, and she couldn't stop herself from reaching toward the glass – a gasp caught in a sob escaping her throat.

A small wooden house – the roof long since caved inward as though a wrecking ball had taken the entire side quarter of the wall away with a single whack. Tin lay in gnarled heaps around the front yard she used to play in…the porch on which she'd spent many a summer night with her latest school crush sitting on the bench swing, was rotted and torn asunder.

DG's mouth hung agape as she scanned the ruins of her old home, noting the darkness of the once lightly white-washed panels and shutters. The entire place was blanketed in thick vines and brambles – Mother Nature reclaiming her territory.

The place looked like it hadn't seen a human presence in a hundred years, and DG caught sight of a bedraggled 'For Sale' sign clinging to the gate near the heart-shaped house number sign.

Just as a shaking finger touched the glass, the mirror went dark. DG froze for a moment, swallowing the burning pain and disbelief. _How the hell had that happened_?

She was feeling over the frame of the mirror with trembling hands, looking for a transmitter, a battery… something to explain why her mirror had suddenly come to life, when a knock at the door nearly made her heart leap out of her chest.

"_Who is it_?" She yelped.

The door opened and the furry head of Raw peered in. His usual fur robes had been exchanged for somewhat finer ones when he took up his duty of Emissary for the Viewer peoples.

As usual, Raw needed no preamble, sensing DG's distress before even entering. "DG upset," he stated simply, frowning worriedly at the princess.

DG ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah, Raw. DG's upset. DG's freaked out, actually."

Raw came to her side. "What happen?" He looked at the mirror, then back to her. "DG see something?"

"Okay," she started, trying to regain control of herself, "I know that mirrors in the O.Z. can be used by your people to see into people's pasts and futures. But do they… turn themselves on automatically or something?" She looked to Raw, gesturing, "I mean, I was under the assumption one of you has to be touching a mirror for it to start broadcasting the _days of our lives_…right?"

His brows came together for a moment, considering her words. Then he placed a gloved hand on her forearm. "Anyone with magic can use mirrors here, DG."

He walked over and inspected the mirror for a moment, before coming back to her side. Raw's eyes were filled with depthless empathy.

"DG see her old home." He touched her shoulder and DG could feel his power emanating like a crackling fire on a cold evening. "DG been sad for long time now, think of old home. Now, after seeing it…" he said, "…makes DG more homesick."

DG shuddered despite the fact that Raw's presence was usually a comfort. It was still unnerving how accurately he hit the nail on the head with his observations.

"So, you're saying I made this thing come on? I thought of Kansas and it showed me what I wanted?"

Raw shrugged. "Mirrors work by magic. Show us what we desire…or what _others_ desire us to see."

DG hugged herself and chuckled nervously. "_Mirror, mirror on the wall_…" She waved Raw's questioning look off, "Guess I'm not really used to this magic thing, especially when it leaks out and does stuff I don't ask it to do."

Raw's smile was sad. "DG misses her old home."

DG looked down, mouth quirking. "Yeah. She does."

The Viewer gathered the princess in his hairy arms. Used to Raw's habit for random hug-giving, DG reciprocated – allowing some of the tension to melt from her. She wondered idly that if not for his appearance, if he'd make a mint on the Other Side as a therapist.

"DG be okay, in time," he offered. "Shouldn't be upset with Cain either."

At that DG frowned and pulled back, looking Raw in the eye. "Where did that come from?"

Raw leveled a look that said(in a Raw-like way): _"oh come on!"_

"Yep. Reading my thoughts again, huh?" She tilted her head

"Not thoughts. Feelings," Raw replied with a smile. "And Raw see Cain early this afternoon. Much anger in him."

_Serves him right_, she thought petulantly. "Well, he'll get no sympathy from me. All I ask is to be treated like the adult that I am, Raw."

Raw considered her, rubbing his beard. His words, as always, were chosen with care and struck a chord. "Cain knows this. But Raw also knows Cain struggles now… Cain cares for DG. DG should trust him."

The Viewer gave the princess a little bow and a small wink before turning to leave. DG eyed her mirror warily, and watched Raw close her door behind him.

"Well…maybe he could learn to send a little trust my way, for a change," she muttered bitterly.

Leaning against the foot of her massive bed, DG looked forlornly at the mirror that had shown her a ghost from her past. The images haunted her – the thought that the place where she grew up had been abandoned and left to the ravages of time made her feel like an old friend had died, and she had no way to mourn it.

Her mother had told her that her past and future where bound to the O.Z. – and to a degree, DG knew she was right. She was born in the O.Z. – had lived there through early childhood – and had returned to take her place within the thread of the story that was her future there. But, as her life changed around her, DG found herself wanting to cling to the life she knew best. After all, she was only just beginning to regain her early childhood memories of the O.Z.

Her life in Kansas might not have any bearing on her future as a princess in the O.Z., but it _was_ her life, her memories and experiences…and those were precious to her now.

Pulling a blanket around herself, DG settled in the armchair opposite the large mirror. Heaving a sigh and stretching her neck from side to side to pop the kinks, DG knew that she was about to have another night of little or no sleep – as she sat, staring at the mirror with thoughts of Cain, trust and the changes that her life had sprung on her whirled and stormed through her head - and wishing that the mirror would show her Kansas again, if only for a moment.

------------------------------------

Cain stalked through the hallways, hat pulled low and the faint tinkle of gun-steel following each movement of his legs. To say that his mood had been foul over the past couple of days, since his little tête-à-tête with the princess, would have been a colossal understatement. In fact, he'd overheard Glitch describe his temperament as something akin to a bear with hang-nails – which he couldn't really deny but still resented the allusion.

The past two days had been spent playing an odd game of cat and mouse with the youngest princess – Cain being the one constantly trying to find said royal vexation. Every time he'd try see that she kept her agenda of lessons, she'd disappear… only to show up late with some vague excuse.

Being an accomplished tracker, Cain had to give the girl credit – she had an uncanny ability to disappear when his back was turned. The message that DG didn't want to be in his presence was coming through loud and clear, and Cain was growing weary of everything. He was tired of his heart jumping a notch or two every time he turned to speak to a guard or lieutenant – thinking DG was still in the room – only to find her gone when he turned back.

Glitch's words about his frequent absences and DG's safety hung with him, and DG's disappearing acts only fuelled the niggling fear that maybe he didn't have her as well protected as he'd like. Every time she wasn't where she was supposed to be turned his chest into a temporary iron press, squeezing his heart with fear – only to have it pass and turn to anger when he found her in another room going through nameless books for research.

Cain attempted to get her to talk to him, resulting in something awkward and leaving them both fidgeting for a way out. It was simply nerve-wracking. To make matters worse, word had reached the palace that one of Jeb's legions had encountered a small contingent of Longcoats. All that the message held was the location of the Longcoat camp and the number of men engaged in a small skirmish.

Cain was waiting to hear the casualty report from his son, and his assessment of Longcoat organization and armament. And a part of him longed to be in the midst of it, commanding troupes and aiding his son.

Taking a route that would lead him to the east gardens and (hopefully) to the site of DG's next lesson, Cain trudged around an immense hedge. He was so intent on his own thoughts, that when a smaller, softer body collided with his, he nearly didn't react in time to catch her before she hit the ground.

On arm snatched DG by the wrist, while the other took hold of her waist. "Whoa there, Princess," he said as he pulled her back to her feet. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think class is in the other direction."

DG's hands were on his forearms for support when she'd tumbled into him, and she pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes before looking him in the face. It was obvious he'd caught her mid-disappearing act, and she fumbled over an excuse.

"I was just…going back for a book I forgot."

When she looked down at the hand holding her slender wrist, Cain remembered that he was still wrapped around her. It worried him that he hadn't realized he was still holding her – his hand at her waist. The flush in her cheeks and the way the dark green sweater she was wearing set off the blueness of her eyes, sent his mind elsewhere. Clearing his throat, he let her go and she took a step back.

Cain took a good look at her, the way she avoided his gaze while she lied and he smiled. "Uh huh. I think the book can wait. How's about I just walk you to your lesson on time, for a change."

DG frowned. "Great. The hall monitors have guns now. Fabulous."

Cain pulled a face at her snark, and gestured for her to precede him. DG complied, though from the set of her jaw, Cain could tell that beside him was the last place she wanted to be. Lengthening his gait, and pulled up beside DG, surreptitiously glancing her way.

DG's eyes were everywhere but his direction and he sighed, hitching his thumbs in his gun belt as they walked. Near by, the royal stables bustled with the changing of the guards, scouts getting fresh mounts and the grounds keepers handling their normal upkeep. The occasional horse neighing punctuated the afternoon and the silence between the pair.

"I'm sorry, you know." His voice was low and when DG turned, he made sure to keep his eyes forward, scanning the area so he wouldn't lose his train of thought.

"For the other day," he continued.

DG looked back to the path they walked. "Don't worry about it. You have a job to do, I understand that."

Tutor stood a few feet away near an old birch tree, several books in hand. He was checking his pocket watch with a sour look when the two approached.

Cain closed his eyes, his hand going out and catching DG at the elbow. He stopped and pulled her back to him, away from the prying ears of the shape-shifter.

"Is this the way it's going to be for us now?" His voice was tired and frustrated. "You're twisting everything around, and I'll be damned if I can figure out where you're heading."

DG looked at his hand holding her elbow, and Cain swore he saw a longing in her eyes. It was gone in a flash though, and she replied, "Look, I know you don't want to be stuck here playing nurse-maid to someone who doesn't need you…" she paused, seeing the pain that sparked his eyes at the statement. Amending her last sentence she tried again, "…doesn't need your protection now. I understand your job, Mister Cain…but I wish you would understand that I'm fine."

"You sure as hell don't _seem_ fine," he stated harshly. "I don't have to be an Empath to see something's been eating at you for the last couple of months. You aren't sleeping, you hardly eat…and you don't talk to anyone!"

DG crossed her arms, but her face was mournful. "Who am I supposed to talk to? The same people who keep telling me I can't do anything the _O.Z._ way? The ones who keep treating me like a porcelain doll, one that'll break with the least amount of normalcy put to it?"

Cain's hands went to his hips and he looked toward the two scouts riding up the path toward the stables. "It's not like you're alone here, DG. Your mother and father…Az… hell even Glitch-"

"…Have all got things to do." DG rubbed a hand across her bangs. "Sometimes I just wish I was back…" She paused, letting "home" hang in the air – Cain narrowing his eyes at her, waiting.

"Back where?" His voice was cautious.

DG's gaze flitted from the stables to Tutor and back to her feet. It had never really occurred to Cain, until that moment that DG might be entertaining thoughts of leaving. _But that was silly_, he told himself – _where would she go_? _One of the other palaces?_ Central City certainly wasn't safe, and neither were the woods or the Old Road. Something tiny and cold nipped at his heart – surely she wasn't _that_ stupid.

DG shook her head slightly, giving him a benign look. "Forget it. Doesn't matter anyway. I'd better get to my lesson before Tutor hexes the both of us."

Her eyes didn't meet his when she left and Cain realized he'd never seen DG this down. He kicked himself for making excuses as to why he wasn't there for her to talk to, but at the same time, he knew he wouldn't have known what to tell her to ease her uncertainties. And that infuriated him even more.

--------------------------

During the hours of her lesson, Cain wondered the perimeter of the garden, between it and the stables. His mind roamed through the last week or so, through every misstep, every caustic word – making him feel less like the great Defender of the Realm and more like a bumbling rookie.

Just then, a scout appeared at his side. "Sir?"

Cain turned, "Yeah?"

"Message from the commander of the fifth legion. He's been in contact with your son, Captain Cain, and there have been some new developments."

Cain frowned as he took the letter. There were two messages inside: one from Jeb and one from the commander stationed a hundred miles west of the palace. If Cain's intuition was correct, they'd come across something. Jeb's letter was routine, yet none too optimistic about the enemy forces massing in the Western Mountains.

It was the commander's message that made Cain's jaw tighten involuntarily.

----------------------------

After nearly an hour discussing the intelligence reports with the scouts and guards in one of the many stations surrounding the palace, and relaying the information to the right people, Cain had forgotten about DG.

He knew the lessons had ended over an hour before, but it disconcerted him that he'd let himself be distracted for that long. Making his way back to the garden, he passed Tutor.

"The princess?" Cain asked looking around.

The older man looked concerned. "She left the lesson well over an hour ago, Cain."

"And?" Cain's heart began to speed up. "Where is she?"

Tutor looked down as if trying to find the right words that wouldn't make the Tin Man spontaneously combust. His pause only fed the growing anxiety in Cain and he reached out and snatched the shape-shifter's coat in a tight fist.

"_Where_ is _DG_, Tutor?" His eyes had darkened along with his tone.

Tutor's eyes widened momentarily, before he caught himself. "I don't know, Mister Cain. She left my company and the last time I saw her, she was walking toward the stables."

Cain sighed through gritted teeth, released Tutor and headed toward the tree where the lesson took place. Suddenly he turned and asked, "Did she cut the lesson short again?"

"Yes," the old man answered, looking at the Tin Man with consternation. "Not that she'd been listening much all afternoon. She had her nose stuck in a book she'd left with me last time, one she'd been bringing to nearly every lesson."

Cain seemed uninterested in this and nearly waved the old teacher off until Tutor spoke up again.

"She saw you receive a message from a scout," he said. Cain halted in his tracks and turned. Tutor nodded, "She saw you get that message and it was like she completely shut down. That's when she left. I was going to come find you as soon as she left, but the guards told me you were dealing with… important business."

Cain said nothing, turned and stalked toward the tree where he'd last seen the princess. Looking about, he could see no sign of her – perhaps she was in another garden, or back at the palace. He sneered… not the way his luck had been running. Refusing to let the anxiety bubbling in his chest to get the better of him, he moved around the tree, looking for foot prints. The ones he found were leading toward the stable.

A few feet from the path, Cain stumbled upon a book bound in green leather. The title didn't make much sense to him – something about advanced spells and conductive magic. He skimmed through it, and noticed that a few pages had been torn out.

The detective in him smiled. Perhaps she'd just gone somewhere quiet, like the Gazebo, to do some studying. Cain knew it wasn't good to jump to hasty conclusions, but the youngest princess excelled at surprising him.

God, he hoped she was at the gazebo studying. Wondering why she chose those particular pages to rip out, Cain flipped back to the chapter title – and nearly dropped the book.

"_Traveling Storms – Trying to Predict Unpredictable Earth Magic"_

The icy cold teeth that had been nibbling at his soul since he'd heard that DG had gone off alone, suddenly sank into his being with full force. He was frozen – his heart had stopped and for an agonizing moment, he was back in that damned tin suit – every awful thought conceivable playing before his mind's eye.

His legs jolted into action before his brain caught up, and he was sprinting toward the stable. Just as he arrived, someone called out to him.

"Is something wrong, sir?" A young guard asked.

Cain's breath came in sharp gasps, "The princess…"

"Oh yes, she just left. Took one of the scout's mounts and took off at full gallop."

Cain felt like something had taken him over – something mad and wild – and the guard flinched hard when Cain grabbed his collar and yanked.

"_Which_. _WAY_!" He bellowed.

"West," squeaked the guard. "She went down the western path!"

The guard was on the ground, looking up at the wild-eyed Tin Man as he brushed him aside – running to the nearest horse, swinging up in one movement and nearly trampling the former rider who'd been leading the animal to the stable.

The horse gave a snort as Cain sunk his heels in its flanks - tearing off at a dead run down the western road. Leaves and dust flew up in clouds as he growled at the animal to run faster – furious at his own ineptitude, furious at DG for her recklessness and utterly terrified that his worst fear would come true…

… That he'd be too late.

_**TBC…

* * *

**_Chapter 4 coming soon! Stay Tuned! How was the angst in this? I hope I'm not making DG into a whining lump of nerves, so let me know if she seems off. Also…yes. Cain is dense. God love his hard little head. Like it? Hate it? Are the mobats attacking? Let me know! **FEED** the author's **NEED** and **REVIEW**!!


	4. The Losing and the Finding

**Disclaimer**: See previous chapters. No claim to ownership here, just borrowing for fun.

**A/N: **Special thanks to everyone who is sticking with me through this little jaunt, and to the new readers who've just discovered the awesome-sauce that is DG/Cain. Also, special shout outs to two people:

To _**Mark Clark**_: My wonderful and patient beta for this, who puts up with all my random fandom changes.

**Dedication:** To _**TheShoelessOne**_ – author of "Heart of Gold, Heart of Tin" and "Guardian" – two splendiferous _Tin Man_ stories. This chapter is named for and dedicated to her and a special chapter of her "Heart of Gold…" story – where Cain and DG get lost in a forest. It's emotive and beautiful, and gave me some wonderful ideas. Thanks for all the snarky and hilarious conversations we've had, _**ShoelessOne**_, I hope to continue them as we wander through the world of DG and Cain. This chapter is for you!

**Home**

**Chapter 4**** "The Losing and the Finding"**

DG didn't know where she was going, and quite frankly, she didn't give a damn. The greens and browns of the trees and undergrowth along the Western path were blurred by the tears filling her eyes. With her hands fisted in the reins and mane of the black steed, DG hung on for dear life. She'd ridden before – living in a rural farming area in a state like Kansas, one didn't go through childhood without learning to ride – but the Finaquan mounts were huge muscular beasts, and DG wasn't entirely sure she had control of him.

The sound of the horse's breathing, the rhythmic beat of his hoofs on the soft earthen path, the squeak of harness leather moving beneath her seemed to lull her into a trance. Urging her horse onward, DG simply stared straight ahead.

Nothing mattered. Not her lessons, nor the fact that the palace would probably be sending out the entire guard to find her – not the fact that she had no idea where this road led, or what it would lead her into – nothing.

If she could only get the image of _him_ out of her head. The road curved to the left and DG pulled on the reins, causing the horse to turn briskly. She kicked him back into a gallop, unwilling to break her pace.

The air hitting her face had turned colder, the light filtering through the trees, dimmer. Nightfall was approaching, but the princess surged onward. Hot tears streamed down her chilled and reddened cheeks, and her throat felt raw from holding in the sobs.

DG kept seeing the look on Cain's face while he'd tried to talk to her – the way he looked when he received the message. She'd been skimming a paragraph on traveling storms – part of which was stuffed into her coat pocket at the moment – when she'd, by chance, glanced up in time to see the guard talking to the Tin Man.

Her heart sunk to a place somewhere below her stomach when she saw the slip of paper exchanged between the two men. She knew what that meant… the same thing it meant the last time Cain had received a message from a regional scout. He was leaving. He'd been called back to the Western Mountains by Jeb or some other officer who required his considerable expertise with the military.

And DG had felt a hot, acidic burn envelope her chest. While the reasonable side of her brain attempted to tell her that he was needed there in order to protect the realm as a whole, which by proxy, included her personal safety as well – her heart despaired that Cain had probably made his ultimate choice: to leave.

DG yanked on the reins, and the horse snorted as he pulled up short. There was a 'Y' in the road, and dimly DG recognized the irony. She'd come to the proverbial 'fork in the road', and true to the cliché, one path was worn and well used. The other was rougher, slightly over-grown, and the farther she tried to see down the path, the faster darkness seemed to swallow it.

Huffing a small chuckle, and swiping the tears from her cheeks, DG aimed the horse down the path less traveled and gave him a good kick.

The trees seemed to bend toward the path as she slowed her horse to a trot. The air was closer, stifling and by then, bone chilling. DG pulled her coat around herself and looked up, but the trees had strangled the last bit of sky out of view. There were no stars to guide her, not that she'd know how to use them. She'd read stories about the pioneers heading West across America, using landmarks and the stars as navigational tools, but DG found it hard to identify much in the night sky except the Big Dipper.

_Cain would be able to find his way_, she thought, her chest seizing with sadness. He was a hell of a tracker, after all. DG let her mind wander for a moment, only to be shocked to the reality of her situation when her horse stopped and snorted nervously.

With eyes wide in the near twilight conditions, DG looked around. "What? What do you see?" She patted the animal's neck and it seemed to pacify him for the time being because he started forward again at a cautious walk.

Save for the horse's hooves hitting the ground with a dull clopping, the forest made no sounds. No crickets, no evening birds twittering in the trees. DG felt something other than the chilly air creep down her spine. She couldn't see more than fifty yards down the path in front of her before the night engulfed the road, and past the shrubs and scrub lining the road, she couldn't make out anything but shadows.

Her breath puffed out in clouds now, the temperature seemed to plummet with every passing minute. Her horse's ears were pricked forward, and she could feel his tension through the reins. DG patted him on the neck again, but she wasn't sure if it was to comfort the animal, or herself.

"Sleepy Hollow has nothing on this place," she muttered, looking around.

DG was starting to feel that her choice in paths might not have been the smartest thing, when one of the shadows in the blue-black murk… _moved_.

Before her heart had time to restart, the horse let out a piercing neigh and jumped like a scalded cat. DG nearly went off the other side as the animal balked from the movement in the dark and tore off at a dead run down the road. DG managed to cling to the breast strap and righted herself just as the horse took off, though no amount of tugging on the reins was going to slow the terrified beast.

The next scream to break the stillness of the forest like a grenade came from the princess – as the horse swerved off the road toward a clearing… where DG lost her balance and tumbled over his shoulder, hitting the grass with a crunching thud.

--------------------------------------

One hand threaded through the leather reins, hovering low over the grey steed's massive neck, while the other hand came up to shove the hat that was slipping backwards in the rushing wind, lower on his head. The cold whipped through his long brown coat, sending his coattails flapping behind him like a banner heralding his ride to the rescue.

Cain's mouth was set into a grimace against the icy wind. He couldn't believe how the day had ended up – another miscommunication with DG… and then he'd let her down all together. How could he have let her out of his sight for so long?

A low branch caught him across the shoulder as he streaked by, and Cain let out a low curse. Snarling at his horse, he pushed the animal even faster – the hoof beats turning into a rolling thunder that matched the beating of his heart.

Cain found himself cursing again under his breath. But this time, he was voicing his frustration with the youngest princess.

"_Goddamn it_, DG! Why do you do this?!" The road curved and Cain leaned with the horse, expertly jumping the animal over a fallen log without a flinch. "Do you do this just to test me? Or are you honestly trying to _kill_ me?"

A thick lather of sweat was starting to cover the horse's neck and chest, and Cain knew he'd run the animal into the ground if he didn't slow up. Knowing he was possibly putting more time and distance between himself and the princess, Cain reluctantly pulled the horse up to a fast walk. Looking down, Cain could dimly see the hoof prints in the muddy earth from DG's passing.

He looked up and around, noting the gloom that was closing in around him. Darkness was falling, along with the temperature – Cain's fear hitched another notch in his chest. If he didn't find her soon, it would be too dark to see…

…and there were a lot of nasty things that chose to come out to play in the inky blackness.

Cain's head alternated from watching the foot prints in the mud, to scanning the road before him, hoping… _praying_ for some sign of the girl who seemed to live to give him a coronary.

"Dammit DG, where the hell are you," he growled, though his face showed only anger brought on by fear.

Once his horse had cooled down somewhat, he galloped ahead until he came to a fork in the road. The tree branches were like hands, reaching toward the road, ready to snatch any riders who passed. Cain had heard tales of trees in the old forests…trees that could move and make sounds. None of the stories indicated that those old bewitched snags were particularly friendly either.

Cain tugged on his hat brim, looking at both his options. A mist had rolled in, ethereal and grey, clinging to the undergrowth and nearly covering his view of the wider road. He couldn't see any tracks, but it seemed to be the better-kept path so he walked his horse down the right-hand curve.

Suddenly, something pulled in his chest, nearly making him gasp. Something had hooked him right in the heartstrings and was tugging like a fish on a line.

_Wrong. This is wrong_, he thought.

Bewildered by the new sensations urging him down the left-hand path, he turned his horse and kicked him into run. After a few minutes, the tugging on his heart had turned into a tremendous weight, cold and icy – dread. The road narrowed and Cain couldn't see but a few yards ahead.

Where once the air had been still and claustrophobic, an eerie breeze wafted through the trees, setting branches to moaning and bushes to hissing at the sides of the road. It was like the forest itself was urging the Tin Man on, faster and faster – and Cain's throat went bone dry.

Slowing, he licked his lips, summoning the breath that the forest had stolen and called out. "DG!"

Nothing. Not even an echo.

His horse snorted nervously, sidestepping and dancing around Cain's pull on the reins. His free hand went to one of his guns, pulling it from the holster and holding it at the ready. Shadows were swirling in the murk, and Cain's eyes narrowed.

There was a magic building. Cain could feel it coalescing all around him. The wind picked up again, the groaning sounding less like old bark bending, and more…humanoid.

Cain turned his head, facing down the dark – his fear for DG coalescing into something iron-strong, determined and immovable. He remembered the chapter in the book DG had been studying – the feel of the earthy magic encompassing the woods – the shadows that were chasing all light from the area and DG's words about home.

"_Back home…"_ _Was she readying a spell…trying to leave_…?

Cain's teeth ground together as he suddenly kicked his horse into action.

"You're _not_ leavin', kid. Not on _my_ watch!" Gun in one hand, reins in the other, the Tin Man thundered into the dark.

-------------------------

DG opened her eyes slowly. Moving her head to the side sent a shooting pain through her head and neck. She remembered falling over her horse's shoulder, though she hoped she'd turned to miss landing on her head. Apparently, it hadn't worked.

She let out a small groan and rolled onto her side, lifting up on her elbow. "Ow."

Holding her throbbing head, she looked around. The clearing was wide, and there was barely enough light to see where the grass ended and the dark abyss of the forest began. Sitting up fully, DG looked around for her horse – which, naturally, was probably on the other side of the O.Z. by then.

"Well, stupid," she muttered, "You wanted some place quiet to think…"

DG put her hands back to push herself up, when a white-hot pain shot from her left wrist straight up her arm and to her brain. She let out a strangled whimper falling back on her side. Looking at her abused wrist, DG could make out some swelling.

She gasped, "Great. That's just _great_!"

Rolling onto her knees, DG cradled the injured arm to her side and looked around. The wind had picked up, going right through her coat to freeze her skin and unearthly noises rose from the depths of the dark. DG's heart froze mid-beat – her breath lodging in her throat.

The tears she'd shed concerning her anguish over Cain and the homesickness were all but forgotten, frozen tracks along her cheeks. Getting to her feet she scanned the dark, looking for the road. But the gloom had walled her in – her only connection to the world was now a thirty-foot patch of grass that she could barely even see.

Shapes were moving beyond the perimeter – grass was crunching under unknown feet and DG found herself backed up to a tree, trembling. Desperately, she tried to remember her training… to find the light within. She held up her good hand, and concentrated on her fist – willing the light to come. If she could send out some kind of magical "flare", perhaps someone would see it.

_Cain would see it_. And he'd come find her…

The image of Cain appeared behind her closed eyes – but it wasn't the image she'd been hoping for. Instead of her self-appointed guardian riding valiantly to her rescue, she saw him receiving that damned communiqué near the stables. The way his jaw set, the duty and determination in those cool eyes – she knew he wanted to leave and do what he'd been trained to do.

All she was to him was a hindrance. DG opened her eyes to see the faint flicker of creamy light wink out in her hand. She tried again, only this time, no light whatsoever shone within her hand _or_ her heart. She felt drained, tapped out. She'd been feeling this way for a while, much to Tutor's chagrin, and it had been evident in her lessons.

Her magic just wasn't what it used to be, and she had no idea why.

DG was staring astonished at her hand when a low growl rumbled from the shadows in front of her. The growl fell to a bubbling snarl as the beast stepped out of the gloom. DG's eyes went impossibly wide – her mouth hung ajar – her scream silenced from the lack of air in her lungs.

Like something out of a bad science fiction novel, the animal was unlike anything she'd ever seen. At the shoulders, it was probably taller than DG, though it stood on four tree-trunk thick legs. Its hair was matted silver with stripes; the mane around its neck went down its back in a ridge of hair that stood on end.

If DG hadn't been petrified, she'd probably have thought the creature was a mish-mash of several animals: the body-build of a grizzly, with leonine movements, tiger strips and four paws fixed with six-inch claws. The head looked like a creature Stephen King would have run screaming from: oddly wolf-like but the jaws were elongated, the bottom jaw jutting out further than the top. The teeth were ragged and fang-like, drool dripping from his jaws as he made his way into the clearing. Two sets of red, glowing eyes (giving it a terrifying spider-like look) were fixed on the princess.

What ever the hell this thing was, it was hungry. And DG was on the menu.

The beast made a circuit around the outside of the clearing, watching DG, before turning head-on at her. It paused, running its tongue over the fangs, and then let out an awful roar that shook DG's insides.

Just as it crouched, ready to pounce, DG found her voice and let out a piercingly bloody scream. When it jumped…so did she…

------------------------------

Cain felt like a blind man rushing head-long into a hurricane. He couldn't lose her. He simply couldn't let her leave this realm – at least not without talking to him. Not without him telling her…_what_?

_Tell her what,_ his brain asked in the fussy background of his maelstrom of emotions.

"She's _not leaving_," he snarled, as if the debate were closed, even if said debate was with himself.

Just then, a sound cut through the wind and trees – slicing a path straight to his innermost soul. A scream… _DG's scream_.

It was like a spear tipped in utter Hell-fire terror plunging into his heart and nearly making him fall off his horse. Eyes wide, Cain stood up in the stirrups, yanking his frightened horse into submission and bellowed her name.

"DG!"

As soon as he turned his head to the left, following the echo of her voice, another howl cut the night air – low and bestial. Cain wasn't even thinking when he aimed his horse to the left and leapt off the road into the mist and murk, crashing through shrubs and saplings, over logs and rocks – barreling toward the source.

Over everything, one sentence flashed in his mind like a warning light:

"_You're not leaving me, DG. Hang on…"_

--------------------------------

DG hit the ground rolling. The wolf-beast had leapt at her, claws and fangs bared, only to come up with a mouth full of tree bark for its troubles. DG had jumped to the side, almost catching one of those six-inch claws with her ankle. She rolled to her feet and started looking for another escape.

The beast snarled spitting hunks of tree bark and turned on her with renewed anger. His snack was becoming more of a challenge – the gleam in his eyes darkened. This time, he took his time stalking in on the girl.

DG was nearly hyperventilating. She saw a low hanging branch, but when she tried to grab on and swing herself up, her bad wrist screamed in pain. With a sob, she fell to the ground again on her hands and knees. Looking up, the beast was stalking in slowly, head lowered, an almost vicious glee in its eyes.

She was done-for and the animal knew it. DG swallowed the mournful sob in her throat – closed her eyes and whispered a one world plea: _"Cain."_

DG wasn't expecting the crashing sounds of man, horse and monster coming together like an explosion. She opened her eyes in time to see Cain, on a grey stallion, clearing the hedge of shrubs to her right and barreling into the monster. Like a knight on his war horse from the Middle Ages, Cain steered his grey steed into the beast's flank – the horse's chest slamming into it with the momentum of a freight train.

The monster let out a squall of rage, tumbling over and over and ending up on the far side of the clearing. Cain's horse went down with the force of the impact, but the Tin Man managed to jump clear before it rolled on him. DG didn't realize she wasn't breathing until her protector rolled with the finesse of a soldier half his age and came up with both guns aimed.

The wolf-beast floundered for a few moments, trying to right its self and favoring the shoulder that had been hit.

Cain faced the monster while backing toward the princess. "DG! Are you hurt?"

DG got to her feet behind him. "No! Are you?"

Cain's lips where pulled back, baring his teeth, but there was a slight smirk in his voice as he held both arms in front of him, aiming at the beast. "Never better, kiddo."

The wolf-beast shook its head, slowing zeroing in on the person who rudely interrupted his meal. The clearing shook with its rumbling growl.

Cain backed up until he could feel DG's hand on his back, seeking connection with his being. For the first time since he heard her scream, Cain felt his heart start beating again, painfully.

"What did I tell you about running off, Princess," he asked over his shoulder.

The beast got to its feet and started circling the duo. Cain kept himself solidly between the princess and the monster, as they edged away in a slow opposite dance around the clearing.

DG pressed up closer to the Tin Man, peeking over his shoulder. "Consider my lesson learned, okay! Let's just get the Hell outta here!"

"Easier said than done, kid. Especially with a were-cat eyeing us for dinner."

"_Were-cat_?" DG looked to Cain, askance. "You mean like a _were-wolf_ – man into wolf, only this is a cat?"

Cain sidestepped again as the were-cat shifted. "No! 'Were-cat' is just what we call them, but they're not shape-shifters. They're supposed to be extinct!"

"Well I think we can safely say there are a few left. So how's about we put this guy on the extinction list already and get outta here!"

Cain couldn't help the small smile playing at his lips. After all of this, she could still snark – even if her voice _was_ trembling. He felt her flush against him, her small body hidden perfectly by his bulk, and it galvanized him. She was _his_ to protect – no matter what.

"Good idea," he said. "But it looks like he's got the same idea for the both of us."

The were-cat snarled and lunged. Cain yelled and opened fire, pushing DG back and away from the razor claws and teeth. They both fell as the monster swiped at them through the hail of bullets, his massive paw striking Cain in the shoulder.

He managed to roll with DG, covering the princess with his body while the were-cat screamed in pain – several bullets punctured his neck, shoulder and arm. The Tin Man and the princess came to a stop behind a big oak tree on the edge of the clearing, Cain hovering over DG.

DG opened her eyes to meet another pair of very scared, very blue eyes, gazing down on her. For a moment, they simply looked at each other – DG's face awash in surprise and terror, and Cain's a mixture of fear, worry and something she couldn't quite understand.

Licking his lips, Cain leaned up a bit. "Are you okay?"

DG was transfixed on his eyes and could do little but nod. As they sat up more, Cain reached a shaking hand toward her face. As if he forgot their lives were in imminent danger, the only thing he wanted to do was touch her face – feel the smooth skin of her cheek under his fingers and prove that he'd really found her in time. She hadn't left – she was there with him…

"Oh God," DG breathed, snapping Cain from the fog.

She was looking at his hand in sick shock – it was covered with his blood. Cain looked down at his arm to see two huge cuts across the upper part of his shoulder. His coat was ripped to shreds and blood was sliding in warm rivers down his arm.

"Oh…uh…" he tried to shrug it off. The terrified look in her eyes was almost too much for him. "It's nothing, just a scratch."

"Like hell it is," she insisted, and reached for him.

He stopped her by gently taking her hand. "Don't worry about it, princess. We have bigger things to deal with."

On cue, the were-cat roared again, getting to its feet. Cain shoved DG roughly behind the oak tree, and turned to the beast. DG clutched the tree in a white-knuckle grip and started to go to the Tin Man, as the cat zeroed in on him at a maddeningly slow pace.

"Cain!" She yelped.

"_Stay there_!" He roared, not taking his eyes from the beast.

The hammers of his twin six-shooters clicked back, and a feral sneer pulled across his lips. His voice was almost as low as the beast's growl.

"_Heeere_ kitty, kitty…"

Finally, the were-cat had enough of the games and lunged at the Tin Man – claws outstretched and mouth gaping. There was a moment where time seemed to stand still for DG – a moment where a life without Cain in it attempted to flash before her, but she wouldn't allow it.

The deafening roar of the beast, mixed with the booming of the guns and Cain's voice, creating a cacophony of sound that seemed to shake the very earth beneath them. DG was vaguely aware that her own voice must have joined the din of yells and screams, though she couldn't hear it. Her throat was raw when everything stilled and the gun smoke cleared.

Cain's shoulders were sagging as he looked at the crumpled heap of monster at his feet. DG slipped from behind the tree to his side, cautiously watching the furry mass for signs of life. But from the bullet holes that blew out a large portion of his skull, she needn't have worried. Cain had taken the kill shots while the beasts mouth was open, effectively blowing his brains out the back of his head.

DG grimaced at the blood and brain matter all around, but turned her attention to Cain.

When he turned to her, looking down into her eyes with weary relief, all DG could do was throw her arm around his waist and rest her head against his broad chest. She could feel his heart thumping steadily, if not a little too quickly, beneath her ear.

"Thank God."

She felt his arm come around her shoulders and hold her close, his breath tickling her ear as his head dipped to rest near her temple. To her astonishment, he was shaking nearly as badly as she was.

After a moment, she pulled away, remembering his wound. "We've got to get you out of here."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you," he replied dryly.

"That shoulder needs stitching, Cain." Reaching down, DG tore a strip from her coat hem and tried to tie it around his arm. But her own injured wrist made it a bit difficult, so she tied it loosely before Cain could notice her discomfort.

She noticed him staring at her, hard.

"What were you _thinking_, DG?" His voice was gravely with emotion. It wasn't exactly a question, and DG stepped back.

Taking a breath, she replied, "I honestly don't know. I needed to get away from the palace…away from… everything. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time – and yes, I know it was insanely stupid."

When she chanced a look in his direction, she was struck by the pain in his face that had nothing to do with his cut shoulder. "DG," his tone was almost a plea, "Don't you know what could have happened? You could have been kidnapped! Part of that communiqué was about reports of a sect of renegades that is known to be enemies of the Crown and was last reported in this vicinity! The enemy isn't always hundreds of miles away over the next mountain top!"

DG frowned at the mention of the letter, but looked down at the dead were-cat. "Well, if the renegades _were_ around these parts, I'm pretty sure they didn't stick around if they ran into this guy."

"DG, don't joke about this." Cain's mouth was a thin line, anger tinting his words. "What if I hadn't gotten here in time? What if-" his voice caught that time, as he motioned to the dead beast, and looked back to the princess. Fear entered his eyes again, and DG was amazed at the depth of emotion.

It stole her breath away.

"Why would you do it," he asked sadly. "Why would you leave?"

For a moment, DG's brows came together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Cain reached out and pulled the wad of papers sticking out of her coat pocket, the ones from the Earth Magic book.

DG looked at them, and her eyes widened in realization. He thought she was trying to summon a traveling storm. In actuality, she'd been seriously thinking of it since her mirror visions of Kansas – but her research had lead her to discover that it was entirely too much Earth magic for her to even think about handling.

"I-" she stammered, "I wasn't going to…to leave, Cain." Her eyes fell to her boots, "I couldn't pull off a traveling storm even if I wanted to. I was just reading about it."

Cain let out a long, heavy sigh. Her tone wasn't very reassuring – in fact, she sounded as if she was disappointed that she couldn't call up a storm. Despite her assurances, he felt the dull twang of pain in his chest at the thought of her wanting to leave the O.Z.

He looked away, his voice quieter than normal. Almost broken.

"Are you really so unhappy here…that you'd try to run that far away from those who care the most about you?"

It was a direct question, one that seemed to shock the Tin Man himself. DG felt like he'd taken a scalpel to her chest, but she knew it was all of her own doing. Why did he have to say these things, when it was _he_ who obviously wanted to do the leaving?

Deciding that she couldn't bring this thought into the open, DG clamped her mouth shut and scanned the ground. A few feet away she spied his hat, which had gotten lost in the fracas at some point.

"Your hat," she pointed out and moved around him to grab it.

For a moment, Cain's eyes rolled heavenward at her dodge, his good hand rubbing over his hat-less head, before reaching out and snatching her left arm.

"Answer the question, DG."

His hand closed around her wrist with no real force, but the princess crumpled under his grasp and yelped in pain. Immediately he let go, afraid he'd hurt her – his brows furrowed in concern.

"DG?"

She held her swollen wrist and shook her head, "Its nothing."

"Dammit, you said you weren't hurt, Princess," he hissed. He moved to take her wrist to inspect it, his tone admonishing.

Towering over her, Cain gingerly took her small wrist in his hands, feeling for breaks. Every time she twitched, or balked in pain…it hurt him. She'd been hurt… physically hurt because he couldn't get to her in time. Breathing through his nose, his jaw clenched in anger at himself – Cain turned her wrist over again.

DG jumped at the movement, and Cain's fingers trembled a little. "Sorry." His face was so close to her his breath wafted her bangs. "Its okay," he soothed, feeling her tense under his hands, "It's just a sprain."

Carefully, with his good arm, Cain helped DG button her coat and situate her wrist inside it, resting on the closed portion in a make-shift sling. Then he gathered up his hat and with her help, tied the tourniquet tighter to stop the bleeding from his upper arm and shoulder.

Slowly, he led the princess out of the clearing. DG hadn't realized until they found the road that he was holding tightly to her good hand as he walked a little in front of her. His other hand held one of his guns at his side, his eyes always scanning the darkness.

About a mile down the road, they heard a snuffling sound, and DG nearly came out of her skin. Both were relieved to discover that it was Cain's grey horse – who'd escaped the battle no worse for wear. He allowed Cain to take hold of the reins and guide him back to the princess.

Cain walked around behind DG, and slid his arms around her waist.

"Whoa," she said, ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat at the feel of him behind her. "What are you doing? I can ride double behind you."

"No way, Princess. I'm keeping you up front, where I can cover your back in case something decides to follow us." Cain said gruffly in her ear.

Despite a torn-up shoulder, Cain swung the princess up on the horse with hardly a grunt – swinging up behind her, and wrapping his arms protectively around her midsection.

DG swallowed involuntarily at the warmth that suffused her being with Cain's body flush to her own. He encompassed her, easily taking the reins and guiding the horse down the path. She cradled her arm inside her jacket and held onto the mane to steady herself.

As the horse picked up speed into a slow gallop once they found the main road, DG tensed, feeling her balance off with only one good arm.

Cain instinctively tightened his arms around her, bringing his mouth to her ear. He must have felt the shudder that thrilled down her spine, because his tone was almost teasing.

"Don't worry. I got ya, Princess," he murmured.

DG chewed her lip in consternation, before letting herself relax just a little into his chest.

Her mind was still reeling with the night's events when they broke free of the confines of the wooded western path – galloping under a vivid blanket of stars, with the Palace before them lit in a welcoming glow.

_**TBC…

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**Next Chapter Soon!** Appologies for the length on this one, it got away from me. I had to give in to the urge to have something "mad and hairy" attack DG, and Cain to the rescue. And yes, Cain has two six-shooters in this - it seemed appropriate. So? Whatcha think? Let me know how the action sequence was, because there will be more to come. Now its your turn to tell me what you think, likes dislikes, if you're throwing any curses...send those **REVIEWs **my way! 


	5. Better Left Unsaid

**Disclaimer**: See previous chapters. While it is sad that I own nothing, I would like to get my hands on Cain's pants. Preferably with _him_ in them!

**A/N**: You guys are awesome-sauce. You all know that. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as I try to start a little more of my B-plot seeping through. I finished my first draft of original fiction for my graduate writing seminar. Gave me new appreciation for how hard it is to create original characters with their own flaws and themes. So enjoy this update and don't forget to drop me a line and review!

**Home**

**Chapter 5** **"Better Left Unsaid"**

"DG?"

The uncertain voice of the Queen's consort caused DG to pause in her packing. She'd spent the better part of an hour trying to decide what to bring with her to the Northern Ice Palace, although there was no way she could hope to understand which items were appropriate for a princess at her first ball. She hated most of the clothes the dutiful servants tried to dress her in, and it had taken an agreement akin to the Treaty of Versailles for her to get her mother to allow the seamstresses to make clothes similar to her old ones.

So, DG had given up and was stuffing mostly tops and pants combos into a large leather suitcase. When Ahamo opened the door a bit more, coming fully into her room, DG paused and looked up.

"Afraid I'm just packing for another escape attempt?" She'd had a royal ear-full from the Queen about her little escapade into the old forest two days before and was in no mood for a repeat.

Ahamo's perpetually sad smile tilted one side of his mouth. "Are you?"

DG sighed. Of her two parents, Ahamo, at least, had a sense of humor. He was from her side of the reality rainbow, after all – and though that should have created some sort of camaraderie between them, it didn't. It struck DG, as she stood looking at the man who was her father, how much of a stranger he really was. She rarely saw him in the months after the Eclipse – he was always helping the Queen with the duties of the throne – which did nothing to help their relationship.

DG studied the man before her for a moment, and decided that he was somewhere between being sarcastic and serious.

"If I am," she said, "I wouldn't be able to get out the door, much less the palace, lugging this behemoth. I'll never understand why a princess is expected to bring her entire wardrobe every time she leaves the house." She shoved the suitcase a little and flopped down on her bed.

Ahamo's smile grew. "I always pack light too. It terrified me when I saw the number of trunks your mother had packed for our honeymoon. None of them had anything of mine in them, and she knew she wouldn't need half the amount of clothes she'd packed."

DG smiled a little at that. She'd always been able to make due with whatever she could fit in a backpack or tote bag for days on end. She could see, from the hovel she'd found Ahamo in when they met, that he was the same.

Funny… that was about all they had in common.

She felt the bed dip with his weight. _Oh no_…he was trying for a father-daughter moment, and DG didn't think she could take it. The paternal talks she'd shared with her adoptive father were all she had to cling to, since the droid's memories of her were nearly all erased by the sorceress. It was one more reminder of something important and tangible and familiar that had been ripped from her, and DG tried not to bristle when Ahamo's hand rested on her shoulder.

"DG, darling, your mother only wants what's best for you. When you ran away like that, you have no idea how it frightened her… and me."

DG stared ahead, but her mind returned to that night in the woods – the were-cat, the fear…Cain's rescue. She'd seen the fear in his eyes – felt it in her heart like an ice-chip being driven home. He'd thought she was trying to leave the OZ. _Maybe she was…_

But at least he'd kept the details of their little jaunt into the woods to a minimum.

"I said I was sorry about that," DG said, her tone dry. "I didn't do it to scare anyone. I just needed a little time to myself."

She didn't look at the confusion she knew would be in his face when she pulled away from his hand. Crossing her arms, she stood at the window.

He tried, "I know that, dear one. But this family still has many enemies, some of which are nearer than we'd like. It's not safe for you or your sister out there."

His tone was meant to be comforting, understanding – but to DG it only sounded alien and patronizing. She knew damn well it wasn't safe out there in the big, wide freak-show that was the O.Z. But she'd also faced down a lot of dangerous things since she returned – only no one seemed to want to give her credit for that.

"You got off easy this time, DG. A tumble off a horse and sprained wrist are nothing compared to what the Longcoats would do to you if they found you."

DG rotated her left wrist. The healer who'd seen to both her and Cain's injuries upon their return had magicked her swelling and pain away. Cain's scratches were a bit more difficult, and obviously from the way her father was talking, Cain had given him and the Queen an abbreviated version of the events. How he managed to play off those claw marks on his shoulder was beyond her.

Once they were inside the palace, guards had sent word to the Queen, who came immediately to the hospital wing. DG and Cain hadn't spoken a word since the ride in, and once the Queen rushed through the doors to gather her youngest in a tight hug, DG knew there would be little time for them to speak. Not that she would have known what to say.

The Queen commanded the healer to take DG to her room while she spoke with Cain – a move that infuriated DG to no end. It was like she was still the little girl, being sent to her room while the grown-ups talked.

She got her own dressing-down when her mother returned. She hadn't seen Cain since.

Feeling the frustration building, DG cocked her head to one side. "You know, no one seems to remember that I had to deal with some pretty nasty things this world threw at me when I got here."

Ahamo stood behind her. "No one is disputing that, DG. But now that the entire O.Z. knows who you are, things are different."

_I don't even know who I am most of the time_, she thought. "Things are different alright. Now I can't dress myself, walk by myself…does someone taste my food before I get it too?" She turned and glared.

Ahamo sighed and tried to take his daughter into his arms. "Darling, I know it seems like we don't have any confidence in your abilities, but nothing is further from the truth. You are one of the most powerful beings in the O.Z." DG looked down, sagging at that statement. He went on, "You are strong, but all any of us want is your safety so you can become what you're meant to become."

At that, DG pulled out of his grasp and pushed the anger inside down. She must not have erased it totally from her eyes, however – for when she looked up, Ahamo's pride-filled face faded with worry.

"So my life is all planned out now. Everything's been planed for me the minute I came back here, and the fact that I'm an adult doesn't seem to matter." Her voice trembled a little.

"DG, that's not what I mean-"

"No, I know what you meant," she purposely left off the 'dad'. "And don't worry. I won't upset anyone's plans." With that, she turned back to her bag, pretending to re-fold the clothes so she wouldn't have to look her father in the face.

Frustration burned inside worst than any sprained wrist. She seemed fated, as best as she could tell, to live her new life, in her new home, according to tradition and rule. And no one seemed to understand.

As she heard her father's retreating steps, DG swallowed the bitterness in her throat. She hadn't meant to snap the man's head off – after all, he _was_ her father. But she felt trapped, disconnected… and so very, very tired. She was expected to act and feel like she belonged – though most of her memories of childhood were still locked in a dusty filing cabinet in her mind.

Her royal parents were virtually strangers to her. Her sister was an emotional and physical wreck, who had tried to bond with her younger sister on occasion, but DG was always afraid of bringing up something that reminded them both of that cursed cave and the consequences there after. So their talks were usually stilted and awkward. Her droid parents were reprogrammed, Glitch was busy trying to be two people at once, and Raw – god love him – only served to bring up feelings she'd rather not deal with.

_And Cain_…well, _that_ was a whole _new_ demolition derby.

As she thought about it more, it surprised DG that she'd initially bonded with the three men over the miniscule span of a few days. How well could they possibly know each other?

Ahamo's voice was tender when he spoke, holding the door to her chambers open. His face was concerned and made DG want to crawl under her bed and not come out for a few months. "We'll be leaving for the Northern palace in three days. It'll take a day to get there, so you can probably put off packing for a while."

Just before he closed the door, he added, "And DG? Try to remember that we love you. This isn't meant to be a prison, it's your home."

DG ran a hand through her hair and back over her mouth. Her robo-dad had said "home is where your heart is" – and once upon a time, she believed that. But she knew her heart definitely wasn't here right now. So, what could that mean? She loved her family…she _knew_ that – but considering that place home was another thing.

Idly, she wondered where Cain was…what he was doing. His eyes had been fiercely worried when they arrived back at the palace and it had nothing to do with her injury. His eyes and words to her from the forest had haunted her over the previous two days.

Sliding to the floor near her window, DG picked up the doll Tutor had given her. Laying it her hand, she tried to concentrate her will into the doll. Scrunching her eyes shut, DG reached down within herself, trying to find her Light.

She opened her eyes, but the doll only twitched feebly in her palm. DG blew out a breath that ruffled her bangs. Again she tried to make the toy spin – an exercise that was supposed to be second nature now.

Nothing. The doll fell to the floor with a quiet plop, and DG scrubbed her hands over her face in aggravation.

"What is the deal? Am I low on juice or something?" Propping her head on one hand, DG closed her eyes tiredly. Ahamo's parting words brought a memory from a book she'd read ages ago.

"_A prison's still a prison, no matter how well it's decorated_." She was glad she hadn't spoken it out loud for her father to hear. Some things were better left unsaid.

But deep inside, she hoped she was wrong.

-----------------------------------

Three days came and went, and Cain used the time to take his mind off the princess, as best he could. He could not, after all, do his job properly if he let his mind stray to wonder if the princess was were she should be, doing what she should be doing (not sneaking off again) every time he had a moment's rest.

So, he stayed busy. And he stayed away from _her_. Still nursing a stiff arm – his duster had been mended by the talented palace seamstresses, thank Ozma – he had healed, but that shoulder would bare the scars for a while. Just a few more to add to the collection, he figured.

More reports from the Western Mountains were coming in, and needed to be answered. Jeb's letters were cryptic – a precaution set to protect military locations and plans, since all communications were traveling by messenger on horseback, and could (and sometimes were) easily intercepted by Longcoat scouts.

Cain could read between the lines, though. They'd encountered more resistance in the past few days, but had been able to put it down with relative ease. He could tell his son loved his appointment, trusted his men, and relished the role of leadership. Cain's mouth quirked when he read that Jeb had heard about his little escapade with the princess.

"_So, is keeping the princess in sight becoming too difficult? If you want, I could send a few guys back down there to help – say…twenty or so? That enough?"_

Cain shook his head, smirking at his son's insolence and wrote back that the day he would need his son's reinforcements to help him guard the princess, was the day he hung up his holster and hat for good, _thank you very much_. Carefully, he relayed the reports of enemy movement closer to Finaqua that he'd received from the commander that day, and asked for confirmation. If there were enemy forces that close to Finaqua, he wanted to know every miniscule detail.

They could be close enough to spy over the palace walls. _DG had better not poke a toe outside the main gate_, he thought – then promptly chastised himself for letting his thoughts automatically return to her. It was no use. Every letter, every report he skimmed only made him think of ways to beef-up security for DG.

Sighing, Cain finished his letter to Jeb, writing in a garbled, rambling code that the royal family was setting out for the Northern Ice Palace soon. No dates were mentioned… too much information on the royal family's movements was dangerous.

Cain walked outside and tipped his hat downward. Winter was settling in like an old man in his favorite rocking chair. The wind had blown the last of the brittle leaves from the spindly branches of the plumb trees dotting the grounds, and the grass was turning brown. The suns were hidden by a sheet of gun-metal grey clouds – snow wasn't far off.

Outside, he watched as servants and guards loaded the cavalcade of cars parked in the drive. Horse-drawn carriages were still in use, but for long travel, the sleek, black sedans made life a lot easier, and warmer. Cain imagined DG would appreciate better vehicular travel to the Northern Palace this time, as opposed to DeMilo's moving garbage heap they'd taken last time.

He almost smiled – thinking of DG in the dress DeMilo's girls had picked out, the way DeMilo squirmed under his fists. DG's strength in the bitter cold and the disheartening memories she'd dredged up. His smile faltered. DG had been so strong then – the way she stood up to him, telling him that despite the fact she barely knew him, she _knew_ he wasn't a vengeful killer. It had stunned him, the force behind her words.

Cain held no small amount of admiration for the young woman who'd taken on the sorceress and saved the O.Z. But that young woman had changed over the several months since the Eclipse, and for the life of him, he wondered what had happened to her.

Cain could understand homesickness. A part of him missed his Tin Man days, rounding up criminals and leading military legions into battle. But he would never shirk his responsibilities – and for now, those responsibilities included guarding DG. It made something in his gut twist when he thought of DG actually trying to leave the O.Z all together. How could she be that unhappy?

He scuffed a stone near his boot. Cain knew that part of the problem was _him_. He had pulled away from her, so why should he be surprised when she returned the favor? Grumbling under his breath, Cain ambled back into the palace. He needed to get his head on straight, stop quibbling over things he could not deal with right now, and get back to work.

With the rumors of enemy renegades in and around Finaqua, Cain needed to make sure the road was safe for the royal family. Walking briskly, determination in the set of his jaw, Cain made his way to one of the offices where the Queen had been working.

He knocked on the open door. Glitch was the first to look up from hovering over the Queen's shoulder. He gave Cain a lopsided grin and a small wave for him to enter. The Queen looked up from the parchment on her desk, and gave the Tin Man a nod.

"Mister Cain?"

"Majesty," Cain started, coming fully into the room, and tipped his hat. "I noticed that the cars are nearly loaded for the journey to the Northern Palace, and I wanted to ask a favor."

The Queen arched a brow in question, and Cain opened his mouth to continue, but fell short when he noticed that there were others in the room. Turning slightly, he caught sight of Azkadellia – sitting primly on a sofa to the side of the door he'd entered. But his words evaporated on his tongue at the sight of DG – sitting with her sister, a small bag in hand that she'd been rifling through.

She'd frozen with her hand still in the bag, eyes wide. Cain realized then, the length of time that had past since he'd seen her – and three days suddenly felt like three weeks. A myriad of thoughts whizzed past his mind in the short pause_: that she looked pale and tired; that she looked like he was the last person she'd expected to see; that he missed the smiles she used to bestow when he entered a room…_

Before the Queen could prompt him, Cain pulled his mind back into the present and cleared his throat.

"Uh," he looked back to the Queen, shifting his stance somewhat and ignoring the look in Glitch's eyes at his obvious flounder. "I wanted to ask you to postpone leaving for one day."

The Queen stood, exchanging glances with Glitch. "And why is that, Mister Cain? Has there been some new word on Longcoat movement that I need to know about?"

"No ma'am. Nothing new. I just want to take that day to scout things out. Take a few soldiers with me and ride the route, checking on and off the road for signs of renegade movement."

Glitch spoke up, "It might be a good idea, my Queen. Cain, here, can check for booby-traps and what-not before we set out. And it's not as if we don't have plenty of time before the Mid-Winter ball."

The Queen smiled at Glitch's enthusiasm. "While I don't doubt your confidence in this fine Tin Man, Ambrose," Cain looked down and smiled awkwardly at the compliment, "We have already sent a large portion of stewards and maintenance staff to the palace before us. They've been there for a week now, surely if they'd seen or heard anything along the way, they'd have written us by now."

Cain hooked his thumbs in his gun belt, and glanced back toward the two princesses.

"Beggin' your pardon, Majesty, but a bunch of maids and cooks wouldn't know what to look for – unless they were attacked outright." He tilted his head, "I've seen towns get taken by an enemy that had them completely surrounded in a day's time, and left no trace. They never knew what hit them until it was all over. I know what I'm doing, ma'am. If they're out there, I'll find them."

He felt, more than heard DG shifting nervously on the sofa behind him, but he willed himself not to look her way. Bad enough that just seeing her after a three day's absence had him nearly forgetting why he'd interrupted the Queen in the first place. He needed to focus! He'd made some rookie mistakes because of her, and _dammit_…that _had_ to _stop_…

The Queen studied him for a moment, her mouth pulling at the corner in a knowing way. Cain had noticed that since he'd been in her presence over the past few months that he had become increasingly suspicious that the Queen may have retained enough of her magic to read minds. She seemed to always be _reading_ him with her eyes.

"Very well. Ambrose, would you inform the servants that we are postponing our departure for a day?" She turned back to Cain and inclined her head. "Take all the soldiers you require, Mister Cain. I trust you with the safety of my family in this, and I know you will not fail."

Cain did not flinch, but allowed the weight of her trust to settle on his shoulders comfortably. He'd never considered his confidence in his abilities to be arrogant. And he never took his duty to the Crown (or to DG) lightly.

He gave the Queen a slight nod, touching his hat brim. "Yes ma'am."

When he turned to leave, he caught DG's eye again. She'd been looking down, pretending to not be hanging on every word – and she must have felt his eyes on her.

Cain thought there was something in those eyes – something that looked a little like disappointment – when she connected with his. She held his gaze, and he read the unspoken command: "_Be careful_."

It always amazed Cain the power of words not uttered. DG's eyes bore into him, and she nodded slightly as if to drive her request home. Cain's heart warmed – some of the old DG he didn't realize he missed so wholly, shone in her eyes – and it primed his protective sentiment toward her into overdrive. She was giving him leeway to do his job – gently telling him that she would be fine and would watch out for herself, but that she _would_ _still_ worry for _him_.

But he kept his face neutral, allowing only a tilt of the lips upward and a quick wink, as he flicked the brim of his hat in her direction before leaving the room.

She need not worry – there was no _way_ he'd let her down. And Ozma willing, he'd be there waiting for her when she arrived.

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DG hadn't realized how arduous her first trip north had been, until she found herself settled snuggly in the backseat of the sedan she and her sister had claimed. The seat leather smelled like new, and molded comfortably around her as she gazed out the frosted window. Az sat opposite her, a journal open on her lap, her pen scratching faintly on the paper.

DG felt a warm familiarity – riding in a car felt more like home, where riding in a horse-drawn carriage was something Cinderella did in the Magic Kingdom at Disneyworld. The sedans were eerily familiar to the old World War II era Packard the Hollister family who had lived down the road back home had owned.

Mister Hollister kept the old beast in perfect condition, using it to drive into town on Sundays for lunch. DG loved seeing old cars kept in working order, and even though these sedans had a few modifications, the shape seemed the same and she figured Mister Hollister would have loved to see an old tank like this in such condition.

At any rate, they rode a hellova lot smoother than DeMilo's ridiculous looking heap DG had dubbed his "shaggin' wagon".

"Did we come to this palace much, when we were kids?" DG watched the woods sway with the wind and the snow drifts undulate like waves as the cars passed.

Az looked up from her book, and gave her sister a half-hearted smile before looking out the window in thought. "Mostly for special occasions. The palace was built during the ancient's reign, where extravagant winter balls were held in the old queen's honor. That's why the great hall is so large – half the kingdom used to come there to celebrate." She winced a little. "Mother didn't go there much for a long time… after you were sent to the Other Side."

DG gave her a sympathetic look that said she wished AZ could forgiver herself, at some point. Az smiled again and shrugged. "Personally, I could never understand why the ancient queens wanted to build a palace in the middle of a half-frozen lake, in the bitter Northern territory."

"Guess they'd never heard the old adage: the three most important things in the real estate business – location, location, location."

Az chuckled and DG wondered how long it had been since she laughed. Silence took over once again, and DG's eyes wandered to the window, searching the frigid forests.

"He'll be alright, you know," Az said after a few minutes.

DG's head snapped away from the window and she blinked. "_Who_ will be alright?"

"Your Tin Man. I'd wager he's already scouted the surrounding woods for Longcoats and is pacing back and forth at the palace, waiting for you to get there."

DG narrowed her eyes at her older sister, who had returned to scribbling in her journal innocently. There was something in the set of her lips that made DG think she was trying to hide a smirk. Since when had big sister decided to try to become the O.Z.'s answer to _Dear Abby_? A part of DG was glad to see Az attempt to be more outgoing with her. Their talks had always been so disjointed, both of their memories skewed in impossible directions. Az had always seemed to be more comfortable with Glitch, than anyone else – but in this case, DG wasn't about to take the bait.

DG sounded bemused. "Wait, _what_? What makes you think I'd worry about him?"

Az only looked up at DG from under her lashes, arching a sculptured eyebrow and the corner of her mouth tilted in an utterly sarcastic, un-Azkadellia-like smirk.

At that, DG snorted and crossed her arms. "Oh _please_. I am _so_ not going there with you. And he is not _my_ Tin Man."

Her older sister made a 'whatever you say, sis' face and shrugged a shoulder. DG shook her head at her sister's blatant audacity to assume that Cain was the sole occupier of her thoughts. She couldn't be more wrong!

She leaned her head back and looked out the window. "He's a grown man, Az, he can more than take care of himself. He's trained to do this kind of work…it's what he knows." Her voice lowered unintentionally, "…what he loves."

DG stared into her own worried reflection and missed the way her older sister was studying her profile intently.

When the car came to an abrupt halt, both sisters were jolted from their thoughts. Before Az could ask what was going on, DG shrugged into her heavy over coat and stepped out into the newly-fallen snow. Their driver had already exited the car, walking up to the sedan in front of them to presumably see what the problem was.

The wind blew DG's hair around her face, but it was not the blizzard conditions she'd faced before. A light snow was drifting from the heavens, and other than the sounds of the people and twenty-odd cars ahead of them, the road seemed quiet. Car doors opened and slammed and the excited utterances of servants and guards echoed toward her from farther up the road.

Two cars ahead, the driver had the hood popped. DG figured someone's radiator had frozen over. She didn't figure they used anti-freeze on this side of the rainbow. As she made her way down to the ailing cars, Glitch popped out of one of the sedans.

"I hate this miserable weather!" He pulled his scarf totally over his head, looking more mummy-like than human. "Now, we have to deal with car's breaking down, of all things!"

"Let me take a look at it," DG said, coming up to the stalled car. Two cars in the middle of the caravan had stalled out, and guards from vehicles further up the line were taking positions along the road between the cars, rifles slung over their shoulders.

Glitch shrugged as DG leaned over the fender and reached into the engine. "Knock yourself out, cupcake, but these old hunks of metal are persnickety! I think I was working on a way to make them more reliable in cold climates, just before my marbles got snatched…" he paused, trying to remember something, when the engine shuddered and growled back to life.

DG pulled both greasy hands free with a triumphant smile.

"Way to go, doll face!" Glitch clapped her on the shoulder. "Who knew princesses could also be grease-monkeys. I'd take grease-monkeys over the flying kind any day!"

"Spark plugs were loose," she said. "I'll go check the other car." As DG trudged through the ankle deep snow to the next car, Az sidled up beside Glitch. Her cape was pulled low around her head, but her eyes were scanning the woods as if she were looking for something.

"Azkadee? What is it?" Glitch put a tentative arm around her.

Az looked into the grey forest, her dark eyes glittering. "I don't know. There's something… something about this place." She took a few steps to the side of the road with her cane. "Can you feel it?"

Glitch shivered. "All I feel are my unmentionables mentioning that they're freezing off."

"No, there's something else. Something on the wind…" Az's grip on her cane became a vice, and Glitch put his hand comfortingly over hers.

DG came up beside them, wiping the grease from her hands on a rag. "What's going on?" She looked at her sister, and then out into the woods. "What is it, Az?"

"Don't you feel it, Deeg," her voice was small. "Don't you feel it on the wind? Something old… dark…"

DG felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Az was right, there was something on the wind – the faint whiff of old magic. DG pulled her coat tighter around herself.

"It's okay," Glitch tried, though clearly he was a little freaked out. "These old woods have always been dripping with magic. The forests around here that lead into the mountains are some of the oldest in the O.Z."

The tincture of electricity in the air seemed to break, and DG felt Az release a breath.

The resounding crack that shattered the serenity of the landscape made DG's heart bounce from her ribcage to her feet and back. An echo followed the first sound, bouncing off the trees and across the hills. It was followed by two more staccato cracks – the length of the echo telling them that the origin of the sounds was miles away.

DG swallowed the cotton ball that had lodged in her throat. She knew very well what those sounds were.

"What is that?" Az breathed, as she and Glitch looked around.

DG saw the guard running toward them and it only solidified her fears. All she could do was stare off into the abyss of trees and snow, knowing what she'd heard but praying she was wrong.

"The Queen wants you to return to your vehicle immediately, princesses. We need to get back on the road and make it to the safety of the Northern Palace as soon as possible." The guard guided DG and Az toward their sedan, Glitch following close behind.

All three of them slid into the cab just as the driver stepped on the gas to catch up with the retreating caravan.

"Well, uh… at least we'll make good time now." Glitch tried to smile, patting Az on the hand. Az acknowledged his kindness by taking his hand firmly in her own.

"What _was_ that sound?" she asked again.

Glitch looked to DG, who was sitting rigidly in her seat. Her eyes were shaded as she looked out the window, brows drawn tightly downward. She was worrying her bottom lip in her teeth. Both her hands were balled into fists in her lap, her thumbs rubbing over her knuckles in a clear sign of distress.

But she never looked away from the window – _could not_ look away from the window – and Glitch sighed.

Still watching the youngest princess, Glitch's face went uncharacteristically serious, as he seemed to debate over whether he should answer Az. As if hearing it out loud would some how make it worse for DG…

"Gunshots," he said, his tone grave. "Those were gunshots."

**_TBC…

* * *

_Stay Tuned! Ch. 6 SOON!** I can't take credit for the "shaggin' wagon" – that belongs to whoever called it that on LiveJournal. Props to them. Yes, this chapter ended darkly. Yes, you should feel angsty. Yes, I am an evil cliffie queen. But you should still let me know what you thing and **REVIEW**! I'll send you cookies!


	6. Cold Comfort

**Disclaimer:** Nope. Still don't own anything. Still would like Cain's pants, though. No one can resist the "_pants_".

**A/N: **Sorry about the cliffie in the last chapter. It had to be done. And hey, it brings you guys back for more, right? So that's a good thing. C'mon, you know you like it! Enjoy!

**Home**

**Chapter 6** **"Cold Comfort"**

DG paced in front of the enormous window in the front foyer of the Northern Palace's reception hall, overlooking the front grounds and entrance. She was dimly aware of all the work the servants who had been preparing the grounds had accomplished in a mere week before they arrived. The once dark, musty palace was alive with sounds and bodies scurrying like church mice to and fro.

Hedges that outlined the front perimeter were clipped and dusted of snow. Many of the small trees dotting the landscape were being strung with thousands of tiny white lights, and the entry drive was lit up like a runway. The sheets of ice that once encased the building had thawed away to reveal an architecture that DG, were she not preoccupied fretting over the Tin Man's tardiness, might have found amazing. The palace was built of a soft blue stone, very much like marble – with the doors and accents in white. It seemed to blend in as a part of the natural landscape – a blue-white ice-castle leading out into the middle of a frozen lake.

But since they had arrived more than five hours before, DG had done little except keep vigil at the front window. She'd searched the place, asking every warm body she came in contact with when they arrived, if they had seen Cain. No one had.

There was no reason for him to be that late. They had heard no other shots ring out over the quiet snow-covered landscape since back in the forest – and DG wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

_That's it,_ she said to herself, _it's been long enough. He should be here by now_. Pivoting on her heal, DG turned from the window and nearly ran over a very concerned Glitch.

"Whoa there doll, where's the fire?" Glitch held her by the shoulders.

DG shrugged him off. "I'm grabbing a couple of guards and a car, and we're going out to look for Cain," she answered tersely.

Glitch expertly cut in front of her again. "Wait, _you're_ going? I don't think so, Princess – you're mom would have kittens if you went out in that forest alone."

"Well, I'll have some guards with me, so no problem," DG said, lifting her head defiantly. "He should be back by now, Glitch. You heard those gunshots. He could've been attacked…" Her chest seized with the thought and she shoved it away. She had to be able to function, and to do that, she had to believe that Cain was alright.

"DG, please. I'll tell the Queen and she can send some scouts out to find him. There's no reason for you to go. Besides, you think Cain would want you out there in the freezing weather, wandering in uncharted forests trying to save him?" Glitch tried to grab her arm, "He'd bust a gasket and you know it!"

DG pushed him away again and huffed, "At this point, Glitch, I really don't give damn what Wyatt Cain might want!" She turned, her face tight with anger, but Glitch could see the fear behind the vibrato. "He's supposed to be here."

Glitch sighed. "C'mon DG, you know Cain. He's probably out there beating on some Longcoats and loving every minute of it." He tried to smile, but DG looked away pursing her lips. "He could have gotten held up because of the weather or the dark, or who knows whatever else that man can get himself into. But he wasn't alone, and you _know_ he can take care of himself."

DG drew in a breath, and when she released it, she felt like a year's worth of stress went out with it. Maybe Glitch was right, perhaps Cain was on his way back right that minute. She knew this was his job – it was as much a part of him as her own self-reliance was a part of her.

Besides, if he was hurt – or worse – she would know. She would just _know_. He was alright…just late.

"Alright," she said at last, "But I still want to send out some scouts to find him."

And with that, DG whirled away from the Royal Advisor and snagged the first guard she could find, gave him his orders and sent him on his way. Glitch watched and smiled inwardly. DG had taken charge, and looked so very much like her mother at that moment.

-------------------

The moons were high in the night sky, but their light was a pale, diffuse glow through the shroud of clouds. The wan light made trees and brush that much more shadowed – the snow, picking up what little light it could, refracted it and seemed to stand out against the blue-black murk. A form shuffled along, knee deep in the drifts.

It pushed through the show, causing a little wake to form in front of it – its staff puncturing the white blank with a soft crunch – the only indication that what lay beneath the dark cloak was vaguely humanoid was the breaths puffing out in clouds with each step. Doggedly, the cloaked form slogged along, uttering no sound but for the crunching of the snow.

It moved through bramble and brittle leaves, its slow pace never changing and never following a marked path. When it came to a small bluff over-looking an open field of white, it stopped. Just beyond the field another expanse of woods sprawled – but just over the tree-tops, a soft glow shown. The top spire of one of the towers of the Northern Palace could just be seen, poking above the pines.

The cloaked figure paused, breathing out a long plume of fog from its cowl. Two milky-grey orbs took in the sights slowly.

"Too long have I been away." His voice was like ice shifting on the lake, brittle and raspy.

A gnarled claw of a hand stretched out from one of the sleeves of the cloak to rest on a nearby fruit tree. The young tree, covered in pale pink blooms that still carried a sheen of frost, shuddered under its touch. One by one, the blossoms withered and shrank as the entire plant turned steely grey. The branches curled inward and the bark creaked and groaned. The once lovely tree was turned into a shriveled dead shell, as if its very life force had been sucked from it.

The cloaked figure leaned on his staff, his soft laugh like the rush of the wind through dead branches. Then, like a whiff of smoke in the wind, he disappeared – and not even an imprint was left in the snow behind him.

--------------------------------------

It was late. She knew it was closer to morning than middle of the night, but she didn't care. DG paced the length of her room in front of her windows, clad in cotton pants and the over-sized sweat shirt that nearly fell off her slender shoulders. Her hair – sticking out on all sides – was tied in a haphazard pony tail, but looked more like it had been scrubbed through pillows and anxious hands. Around her bare feet were several books, all of them strewn and left sitting with their spines splayed out, pages fanning with the air as she passed them.

She really _had_ tried to relax. Truly she had. After Glitch had convinced her to let four or five scouts head out into the growing dark on horseback to look for her wayward Tin Man – DG had tried to find something to occupy her time and her mind in the waiting. She'd eaten with her parents – though they seemed to be more engrossed in conversation about enemy movements, military counterbalances, and ensuring township and provincial loyalties than whether or not DG was finishing her peas.

Not that DG had been the most demonstrative of table guests. Her eyes were glued to the dining room door, waiting for a scout or guard to re-enter. Her ears were straining over the low voices of the Queen and her advisors, to hear the ensuing commotion she just _knew_ would take place once Cain and his men arrived. She picked at her food, sighed frequently – and her older sister knew better than to ask. Az simply watched quietly as the youngest princess fretted over the man she so adamantly denied she felt anything but friendship toward.

But he had not come. The evening wore into night but no scouts, no messages, no word what-so-ever came, and DG was dangerously close to pulling her hair out. So, there she was, pacing her room like a caged animal and damning the architect who designed her quarters with a window that faced the frozen lake near the back of the palace instead of looking out over the entrance.

She stopped in front of the offending window again and narrowed her eyes, trying to see across the blue-black lake. _Figures. I just had to have the room in the _back_ of the freakin' palace. _DG thought for a moment that she saw a light flicker in the woods across the lake. Probably her eyes playing tricks on her… but she'd give anything to be out there, looking for Cain.

It was odd, the need she seemed to have to get out of the palace and into the wild. Like there was something out there she needed to be doing, only she had no idea what it was. She also had no idea how to go about tracking Cain and his men down, since her sense of direction was famously faulty – and the most she knew about tracking came from some old John Wayne movies she and her robo-Popsicle had watched together.

Her head rested on the frigid window – her breath fogging the glass. She smiled – Cain was the OZ's answer to the Duke. Absurdly, she mourned that the OZ didn't have conventional television sets or video players, for she thought Cain would have enjoyed watching westerns.

_Where the hell is he?_

DG looked at the mirror atop the vanity in the corner. It was the same one on which Raw had shown her the rerun of her death. A shiver stuttered down her spine at the thought, but she pushed it away and strode over to the table. Chewing her lip in concentration, DG summoned her memories of home. Kansas' wheat fields, her motorcycle and the creaky, tin windmill came to life in her mind's eye. When she opened her eyes, the glass in the mirror had given way, and a town sprawled before her. Mouth open slightly, DG leaned in to get a better view. The magic seemed to be flipping channels again – the pictures alternated between scenes of people shopping, kids laughing, and teens leaving a school…

It was her old town back in Kansas. DG's heart thudded as she recognized her old high school, the mall, even the highway she regularly speeded on to get to the minimum-wage, fly-trap of a greasy spoon she used to call her job. _God_, she even missed _that_ place! She wanted to see more, and leaning in, DG touched the glass hoping her magic would come out of hiding long enough to change the channel again.

But as soon as finger met glass, the screen when dark, and DG felt a little portion of her heart leave with the images. She even tried to summon her Will into the mirror, but just like with the doll, nothing but disappointment and confusion came.

"Great," she huffed, "Can't even work up enough juice to get cable. Some great and powerful spell-slinger you turned out to be, DG."

Flopping down on her bed, DG let out a tired sigh. Since magically controlling a mirror to feed the pathetic homesick creature inside her was obviously out, and reading, pacing and cursing the gods wasn't bringing Cain through that front door any faster, DG conceited that the only place where she knew she could find Cain waiting for her was in her dreams.

She hadn't been sleeping much over the last month, and exhaustion took over.

Something was wrong. She was outside, shin-deep in the snow – the North wind swirling the gown she wore around her calves, working its way up to freeze other parts of her body – and something was very wrong.

DG turned around in a circle, oblivious to the cold, when she heard it. A voice, distant and fading, echoed through the trees.

_DG…_

She turned toward it and squinted. "Where are you?"

_DG…come…_ it floated on the wind and rasped through the dead branches. DG felt it pulling her along, her feet moving through the snow. The slip of the dress she wore offered no protection, but DG could barely feel the bite of the wind. She had to find the voice. She _had_ to…

"Where are you," she called again, over the building wind. Her heart was racing now with the urgency of the moment and her breath was pluming out in clouds in front of her.

The trees wound together above her, until the sky was erased. The voice echoed blithely, bidding her to come into the woods and she willingly followed. Then the voice faded out, and DG found herself alone in a snow-covered thicket, in a stupid, sheer nightgown and hardly able to see but a few feet in all directions. She turned in circles, but the path she'd come from was erased in the snow.

"I can't _find_ you!" She yelled, her voice swallowed by the vacuum of space around her.

_You will find me…_

DG's heart stopped and she whipped around. The voice was a snake's hiss in her ear, and when she turned, she found a cloaked figure standing near a tree, where there had been nothing but empty space a moment before.

She breathed – once. Twice. "Who are you?"

The cloak did not move and DG couldn't quite tell if it was part of the tree or a separate entity. It could have been a humanoid boulder for all she knew. And she was about to assume just that, until it spoke again.

_I have been summoning you, dear one, and soon you shall come. When the time is right._

"I'm here now," her voice shook, but she willed some steel into it.

_When the time is right, you shall find me_, the form repeated.

DG hugged herself. "I don't understand." She was there now, whatever Felonious Monk here wanted, why didn't he ask it?

When the cloak didn't move, DG felt curiosity prick her psyche – and it was odd to her that she didn't feel all that afraid of the cowled creature.

"What do you want?"

Its laugh whispered like dead leaves along the grass and DG had to lean in to hear.

_It is what _you_ want, child…_

The glib retort died on her tongue when another voice – this one achingly familiar – resounded off the suffocating silence.

"DG!"

The princess's heart jolted to life with painful precision and before she could think she screamed, "_Cain_!"

He called for her again, but this time the sound came from a different direction. He seemed to be all around and nowhere, and helpless, DG called back to him frantically.

"Cain, where are you? Tell me how to find you!" Her hands were in her hair now as his calls echoed around her. She didn't know which direction to start off in, and every time she took a step toward the voice, it seemed to be directly behind her again. Tears sprung to her eyes – she turned to the silent figure.

"How?" She pleaded, a sob in her throat. "How do I find him? Help me find him, please!"

The cloaked figure didn't move – did not breathe. DG felt like she would fly apart in all directions, or sink into the Hell that was rapidly consuming her as Cain's calls went unanswered.

She fell to her knees in the ice and snow, her face turned up to the dark hood, where she could just make out two dispassionate, milky eyes watching her. She should have been frightened by the sight, but she wasn't. Cain's voice had erased all thought from her brain, all emotion but one from her heart – desperation. She was completely lain bare before him now.

She begged then – broken and terrified for the Tin Man somewhere in the darkness. "_Please_… tell me how to find him. I _know_ you can tell me how to find him."

Without a sound, the figure turned ever so slowly as a grey, withered hand appeared and pointed a claw-like finger off into the darkness. At the same time, DG heard Cain's voice, louder and more insistent, coming from that same direction.

Without sparing a 'thank you' to the old cloaked creature, DG sprang to her feet and took off. She ran blindly toward the source, legs pumping through the snow, her gown hiked up nearly to her hips. She called his name every few feet.

Suddenly, a branch reached out and caught her arm as she passed, yanking her balance off to the side and sending her rolling on the ground. DG gasped as she tried to stand, but found her ankle ensnared by a vine. She managed to break it with one good kick, but stumbled into some brambles that pulled at her gown and shredded her skin.

The trees opened up before her and DG could see some men moving in a clearing. They were ducking behind whatever cover that could, hiding from an unknown assailant. She knew these men…they were _Cain's men_!

Frantically DG tried to free herself. She had found them! Cain had to be nearby. She heard gunshots, but didn't bother to duck. She didn't care if she had to run through a hail-fire of bullets – she'd find Cain.

Then, she noticed someone leaning up against a tree – his white shirt and duster covered in blood. His hat sat forlornly on the ground and he was struggling to breathe. DG screamed his name, but he did not seem to hear.

His eyes were glassy – his mouth opened and said one word: her name. DG was like a wild-cat scratching and clawing at her bindings. She had to get to him…had to be with him…

"Cain! _Wyatt_! I'm here, I'm coming! _CAIN_!"

DG fell out of her tangled sheets with a thud, panting like she'd run a marathon and covered in cold sweat.

"_Oh my God_," she breathed.

Then she tore out of her room at break-neck speed, sprinting barefoot down the marble halls – and when she hit the two-story high front doors, they didn't even slow her down.

She _knew_ where he was. The vision had shown her! This time, she would find him…

---------------------------

It was still dusky outside, and the only lights were from the decorations lining the walkway and drive – so when DG's shoulder and torso connected with a warm body, she had no idea who it was. And she didn't care.

They landed in a heap of arms and legs and slushy snow with a loud 'oof!' The princess rolled away with more grace than she gave herself credit for, picked herself up and started off again – only to discover two arms wrapped around her waist.

"Let go!" She twisted in his arms and managed to slip loose. But whoever she was grappling with was faster, snatching a wrist, and DG rounded on him with a fist balled. "Let go of me or I swear I'll turn you into a goddamn _grease spot_ on the ground!"

Her fist was caught mid-punch, and as she shoved blindly at her captor, he laughed.

"Well _damn_, your Highness!"

DG stopped and finally looked her dance partner in the face. "Jeb!"

He staggered but held her wrists firmly. His curly blond hair was covered in snow and ice, his coat in mud, but he chuckled at her dumbstruck face.

"Who'd have thought someone your size could pack such a wallop," he said with a grin.

DG pulled away from him, still panting but now utterly confused. "What the hell-"

Jeb rearranged his coat and agreed, "Yeah, that's what I was thinking just as this streaking white mass bowled me over." He rubbed his chest and winced.

DG backed away, ready to resume her flight when she became aware of other men around them. She looked to her right and recognized the faces – Jeb's men mixed in with the palace scouts and royal guards – just as Jeb asked where she thought she was going.

"Yeah," said a voice behind her, one that made her chest spasm in a glorious way. "I'd like to know that, too. And _why_ in the name of _Ozma_ are you _barefooted_ in the _snow_, DG?"

DG pivoted and took in the sight of a filthy, exhausted, but utterly and beautifully alive Wyatt Cain. He was looking at her with an adorable mix of confusion and concern, his brows furrowed and his blue eyes sparkling despite his fatigue. There was an abrasion at his temple and DG caught the smattering of blood mixed in with the dirt on his duster. His hat, miraculously, was unscathed.

She didn't think her feet hit the ground in the distance between them, as she flew into his arms – causing him to grunt in surprise and drop the bag he was shouldering. She felt his arms wrap around her and the warmth that suffused her spread like a fire throughout her body. DG tightened her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder.

She wasn't even aware the tears were streaming down her cold cheeks until he must have felt a sob tremble through her. One hand was at her neck, fingers playing lightly with her messy hair, the other around her waist securely. He still hadn't let her feet touch the ground as he held her to him.

"DG?" He asked softly, concern etched in his weary voice.

She shook again from the pure joy of feeling his voice rumble through her. Sucking in a breath, all she could say in a watery voice was, "You're late."

She felt him lean his head against hers, temple to temple and sigh. His arms tightened slightly and she felt a soft chuckle bubble up from his chest. One of his hands had worked its way under her sweater – the chill of the air broken by the scorching touch of his skin on hers. DG stifled the gasp in her throat at the sensation, hoping Cain would just think she was gasping from the chill and not the effect he was having on her.

"I know." There was a smile in his softened voice. "Sorry."

_**TBC…

* * *

**_

**Next Chapter SOON**! Yes, Chapter 7 will actually deal with the Mid-Winter Ball. DG sort of ran away with this chapter. Well, whaddya think? Angsty? Is Old Man in the cloak scaring you yet? Because he should! You should be afraid of him, _very_ afraid. -insert evil laugh- Okay, time to hit that **REVIEW** button and let me know what **YOU** think!


	7. Misguided Dance

**Disclaimer: **See previous chapters. Sadly, if I owned the rights, a sequel would have already been pitched to Sci-Fi Network and would be in the works. I ride my horse twice a week. I'd love to try a change – maybe riding a _Tin Man_ instead.

**A/N** This is one of those times where a part of your brain is saying, "Okay, hon. Move on. This chapter is stretching into eternity. Find a stopping point!" Unfortunately, this is also a chapter that has been a long time in coming and had a LOT of stuff to convey. So, apologies for the length ahead of time, because this chapter is inordinately long. I also allowed more play in DG and Cain's characters, a little allowance for their Inner Voices to chew them out a little. So there will be some levity in the angst. Enjoy!

**Home**

**Chapter 7** **"Misguided Dance"**

He growled again under his breath for the nth time. _This is stupid. Why the hell do I have to dress up like a buffoon every time some royal shindig rolls around?_ Cain wrestled with his tie again, attempting to coax the silk into a straight bow beneath his freshly shaven chin. It must have sensed that if it didn't cooperate this time, it would be flung out the window – Cain tugged on the ends to even it up and looked up in the mirror.

_God, I hate this. It was bad enough during the first ceremony. Getting stuffed into this dress uniform twice in one annual is two times too many. _

Wyatt Cain took a step back from the mirror. As much as he groused, even he couldn't deny that he cut a pretty handsome picture. The white waistcoat and tie stood out against the rich, black coat. The jacket sat just below the waistcoat, the lapels arcing gracefully toward this shoulders – and though it was of the highest fashion for the well-dressed man of the O.Z. to be sporting tails on his outer coat, Cain had threatened the tailor with the dungeon if he lengthened the back.

On his left side, just above his heart, a cluster of ribbons stood out in a brilliant splash of colors. Each one signified a moment that, as he had put it, he was "just doing his job" – but the establishment had dubbed it "above and beyond the call of duty." In truth, Cain hated having to wear those ribbons, for each one called attention to a man who'd rather not be noticed.

Cain rolled his neck to the side, popping a few knots that had formed since he started dressing and gave his jacket a good tug. He was just about to leave his quarters –_ no sense in delaying the inevitable _– when the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him made him pause.

"Forgetting something?" Jeb lifted a brow at his father, who turned with a questioning glance. He smirked as Cain's eyes fell to the object dangling from his fingers. "Didn't think you'd get away with not wearing this, did you? After they had such a big ceremony just to give it to you?"

Cain grimaced. "Aw hell, Jeb. They gave all of us those medals after the Eclipse. And I doubt if Zipper-head or the Furball are gonna be wearing _theirs_ tonight."

Cain stalled, pretending to brush off the arms of his jacket while the memory of the award's ceremony filled his mind. Initially, he'd turned down the Medal of Honor and Bravery offered by the Queen for his role in protecting her youngest and saving the whole of the O.Z. Commendations weren't his thing… ceremonies _definitely_ weren't his thing. But the Queen had insisted.

More accurately – _DG_ had insisted. And who was he to deny her anything? That thought both intimidated and bemused him. But all of his resistance meant nothing in the jaw-dropping, heart-seizing moment he saw DG waiting at the top of the podium of stairs in the over-crowded auditorium in Central City. Wyatt Cain was not a man given to aggrandized proclamations of the softer sentiments and emotions – but he was damn sure that for the first time in his life, his knees actually felt wobbly.

A tough-as-nails Tin Man like him didn't feel butterflies in his stomach or the raging beast called 'libido' doing flip-flops in its welded cage situated in his brain and the other decidedly _male_ locations throughout him. At least, a Tin Man like him wouldn't admit that the sight of the O.Z.'s youngest princess – a girl _(No! Woman!)_ half his age, and a handful of trouble to boot – could do that to him.

Cain couldn't decide, as he walked down the aisle between the multitudes of Central City that day, whether he was walking toward heaven or an execution. DG was decked out in a dress Cain figured had to have been blessed by angels or fairies – its pearlescent glow almost hurt his eyes, it was so beautiful. Many a cold night on the trail had been warmed by the memory of how that neckline plunged to places men dream of exploring with fingers and tongues. It was an off-the-shoulder number, simultaneously making her look vulnerable and seductive and the closer Cain drew to the stairs, the more the pearly colors seemed to change to a dewy, peachy hue. It set off DG's china-like skin – giving it a pink glow that reminded Cain of arousal-warmed flesh, and he cursed the fact that his dress uniform pants were as tight as his khakis.

Some tough-assed Tin Man he'd been – blushing like a horny schoolboy in front of half the Realm and the monarchy that day. DG either didn't notice his reaction to her placing the medal around his neck, or she hid it very well. Cain could still smell her fragrance as she leaned in, feel her fingers brush over his neck, far softer than the silk of the medal's lanyard…the delicious view of the slight swell of her breasts as she leaned…

"Uh, Father?"

Cain's head snapped up and nearly cracked every vertebra in the process. He'd somehow come to sit on the small table in front of his dressing mirror.

_Great Gale, man! What in the hell are you thinking? Where did all of THAT come from, and… ohforthelove – _Cain chanced a look down, then sank forward burying his face in his hands. _Since you don't have time for a cold shower, maybe Jeb can go outside and get a bucket of snow that you can dump down your pants. Idiot._

Cain scrubbed his face furiously. "Sorry, son. Just… distracted…I guess." He took a few deep breaths, willing his body under control and the redness of his face down to something a little dimmer than cherry. He carefully remained seated and silently thanked the tailor that his jacket extended past his waist and that black was a very concealing color.

Jeb 'hm-ed' to himself before coming to his father's side. It had been an odd display – seeing his father go from perturbed with the whole ball affair to turning beet-red, with an inscrutable expression and a prolonged pause that left Jeb wondering.

Figuring that Cain must hate conventional parties like the plague, he patted his father on the shoulder. "C'mon now. It's not that bad. Better than freezing our tails off in those woods playing gun tag with those rebels."

Cain rubbed his jaw, feeling again, like himself. "Yeah. Funny, isn't it? That's what they used to call _us_." He looked up at Jeb. "Rebels."

"Yeah. Funny how much the O.Z. has changed just because your little princess arrived." Jeb fingered the heart-shaped medal in his hands.

Cain sat up at that, eyeing his son from under his brows. "She's not '_my little princess_', kid."

Jeb cocked a brow again. "Oh really? And pray tell, _who_ do you think she was charging out the front doors the other night – running down military and countrymen – to look for?"

"C'mon, Jeb." Cain stood, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. "She was just worried. We'd been through a lot together since she got here, that's all. I was supposed to be here when she arrived." He looked at himself in the mirror again, relieved to see that all vestiges of his little daydream were gone. _Well…mostly_. He tugged his coat downward over his pants' front. "She needed someone to look out for her, so I did."

"Seems more like she was out to try to save _you_, for a change," his son answered.

Cain couldn't help the hot spring that welled up within him at that. He remembered the way she looked, the fierceness in her eyes when Jeb tried to stop her – the shock and relief when she laid eyes on him. It had startled him when she leapt into his arms – the last few months had seen precious little physical contact between them (much to the chagrin of those very male portions of his psyche) and he'd been careful to try to keep some distance. As confused as he'd been with these new feelings toward the princess, getting close only made things worse.

But she'd molded herself to him without hesitance that night, and the way her body trembled in his arms – like a tiny bird freed from a catch net – sent his senses into overdrive. He'd never felt her tremble like that and it had scared him. Her tears had soaked his shoulder, but he felt the tension slowly ebb from her body – and with it, went his own. For those few moments, until she pulled away with a slightly embarrassed look, all was perfect.

Cain shook his head. "That kid can be such a damned fool. Runs off half-cocked, fighting the world with nothing but a wooden stick." He chuckled lightly. "Damn handful."

Jeb watched the fondness wash over his father like a spring shower. He kept his face unreadable, however, as his father finished getting ready. Just before he left, Jeb dropped the medal into Cain's hand.

"Put it on, Dad. I think the princess would be hurt if you neglected the heart she gave you." He gave his father an encouraging wink before shutting the door behind him.

Cain narrowed his eyes at the heart medal in his hand. He didn't know Jeb to be fluent in double meanings, but then again, he didn't know Jeb very well at all. Carefully, he put the medal around his neck and situated the pendant just under his white bowtie. He looked at the medal for a moment, idly noticing that it was different than the medals presented to Raw and Glitch that day that seemed a lifetime ago.

Their medals had been star-shaped and silver. The Queen had said something about them being a symbol for loyalty and valiance in service to the country. But his was a bright gold and shaped like a heart with a tiny tin-colored star set in the middle of it.

"_For bravery,"_ the Queen had said, _"when our kingdom needed it most. For in brave deeds, the truest of hearts shine all the brighter, despite the tarnish of the years."_

Cain swallowed. It was a stupid little piece of gold and tin, but with those words from the Queen and the look in DG's eyes when she placed it around his neck, he would have sworn they were handing him the keys to heaven. Oh, how he could have stood there forever, staring into DG's eyes.

_Stop it! If you acted that way the last time she wore a dress in front of you, how are you going to get through tonight? Oh shit._ Cain swallowed again, this time feeling a nervous tension coiling in his gut. If just thinking about the awards night made him nearly lose control, how was he supposed to get through a night of drinking and dancing – _dancing_! That meant bodies close together…touching…

_Rein it in, Tin Man! You've allowed yourself to make some stupid mistakes because you let something other than your brain do the thinking. You're her guardian tonight. Nothing more! Just meet her at the bottom of the stairs after she greets the Queen, lead her away… then go find a bottle of something stronger than Nitro and…_

Cain sighed. He had no idea where all this inner commentary was coming from, but he needed to put a lid on it, fast. He had an entire evening of the Mid-Winter Ball to get through. There would be royalty from all over the territories coming there that night, and after his little spat in the old forest, the enemy was about. It wouldn't be a half-bad idea to try to smuggle someone in as an aide, or some other lackey – someone who could get close to the royal family.

That thought steeled his nerves – effectively sending his over-excited libido and Inner Voice back to his cage with a good kick – and let the protector take over. He could do this. Just keep thinking about the job. Keep an eye on the princess at all times…not that it would be hard.

His hat hung on the end of a chair near the door, and he felt rather exposed leaving it behind. After all, it was a lot easier to hide those outward emotions that slip past his guarded mask under the brim of a rumpled fedora.

------------------------

"This is really _not_ natural," DG said, eyeing herself in the mirror. Two chambermaids flitted about, fussing with the hem of her floor-length gown. Whenever possible, DG had avoided wearing dresses since she came to the O.Z. But sometimes, there were events where jeans and a tee-shirt were just not appropriate.

One of her maids finished tying the cinch strings on the back of her dress. "You look lovely, my lady. I would have never believed the Queen to give consent for the use of this color at the Mid-Winter Ball, but it truly suites you."

DG looked down at her chest again, mourning her crushed ribs and wondering if the dressmakers of the O.Z. knew a person could end up with internal bleeding from the use of corsets. Instead of using the corset as an undergarment, the bodice of the dress itself was a type of medieval torture device – tying in the back and pulling her breasts up to sit on a shelf just under the square neckline. _What little breast she had,_ she thought remorsefully, was in no danger of flowing over the edge, but the bodice _had_ seemed to achieve the impossible. It gave her a modest amount of cleavage.

DG ran her hands down the dress. "I still don't think it's normal for my boobs to be sitting on a shelf like this, like they're waiting for breakfast or something." The maids giggled despite themselves and DG had to smile too. All things considered, the night might not be a total loss.

Cain was back, safe and sound. _And he'll be in dress uniform again tonight_. The thought brought back images of the stoic Tin Man dressed to the nines in a dress uniform that looked like God Himself had plucked it off the rack especially for Wyatt Cain. It fit every cut and curve of his physique perfectly – and God bless those brilliant seamstresses – those black pants could make a girl forget the khakis Cain usually wore.

_Jesus, Deeg. Get a grip, will ya? This is the same guy who pretty much got on his horse and stepped on the gas right after that award's ceremony, leaving you in his dust, remember? The same one who's acted like a robot around you the past few months? The guy who's practically been the bandleader of the 'Meek and Helpless DG wet-nurse' group! He probably climbed out his window and hauled ass to the nearest battle ground with Jeb by now._

DG's smile faded and she stared hard in the mirror. Her hair was gathered behind her head in a tumbling mass of dark curls. She'd applied enough make-up to hide the fatigue lines and tiny rubies dangled from her ears. A maid came up beside her, reached over her head and placed the wreath of pearls and diamonds on the crown of her head.

_Holy God on Earth_, DG hated that thing! It wasn't a crown, nor was it a tiara. It was a headpiece: wrought of silver and pearls, mixed in with enough diamonds to purchase a tropical island, and made DG more than a little nervous she'd turn her head too quickly sometime and lose it. Her mother had given it to her just before she and her sister were presented to the whole of Central City – by extension, the O.Z. – just before the awards ceremony.

Azkadellia's was silver with sapphires encrusting it, and DG was sure she wore hers with more stately grace than DG could ever hope for. DG felt like a runner-up in a tacky homecoming pageant. But, she allowed the young maid to fit it atop her head and denied the urge to yank the thing off and chuck it out the window.

"I believe you are ready, my lady." The older of the two maids said, giving her dress a final check.

DG looked out the window and breathed a small, mirthless chuckle. "You think?" She was as far from ready as she was from Kansas, and at that moment, the blue-tinged beast of homesickness returned to curl up in her chest.

DG raised her chin, sucked in a breath – that nearly made her light-headed and did interesting things with her breasts over the neckline of the top – and prepared to leave. She heard the maid mention the color of her gown again, and she wondered what the big deal was. It was red. Her dress was red – _what's wrong with red in the O.Z.?_ It had inch-wide straps that flowed into the corset-style bodice, and then opened to an A-lined skirt that skimmed the floor. It reminded DG vaguely of some photos of eighteenth century ball gowns, but other than that, she liked the design.

_Hell. It made her have cleavage! This thing deserves an award just for that!_ As she walked down the corridor, mindful of her dress and praying that she didn't trip on it going down the ballroom stairs, DG could hear the orchestra music. They were playing a lovely upbeat number with a sound that could have been a hundred string players. People's voices filtered in with the music. Hundreds had come to celebrate Mid-Winter at the Northern Palace.

DG watched the marble floor as she continued on, trying to remember what she was supposed to do upon arrival. _Wait to be announced. Walk down the stairs toward Ahamo and Mother – and pick up your dress hem! Oh wait._ DG paused mid-step and gulped. _I have to meet my escort at the landing, half way down the staircase! _

Cain would be waiting for her there. He'd take her hand, lead her down the rest of the way and let her curtsy to the Queen and Consort. DG shook her head ironically as she moved on. _Oh, this night was going to start off so freaking well. She was stuck in a dress, in heels, had to go down stairs and on top of all that, she'd have to see Cain waiting for her – in that damn dress uniform. Staring at her. _

She'd be lucky if she didn't miss a step looking at him and fall ass-over-tea kettle all the way down.

---------------------------

The grand ballroom of the Northern Palace was cavernous. Cain had an inkling of its enormity the first time they had entered with DG, but now that it was lit-up and filled with people, he realized that his estimates had been woefully limited. The cathedral ceilings were so high they almost dissolved into nothingness, as though the pillars simply reached on to heaven and never ended.

The floor reflected like a mirror. Trees that were covered in white lights were interspersed with arbors of candles all around the perimeter, and several large tables with food and drink sat in the corners of the room. Cain had already found his way to the alcohol shortly after arriving and had helped himself to a shot of bourbon.

He'd shaken hands with the few resistance fighter captains he knew, greeted the commanders of the Eastern military regiments, and nodded to the guards whose lives he'd helped save during the sneak attack they'd stumbled into two days before. Then he stood back and took in the sights.

The place was an absolute explosion of people. Cain roughly guessed there had to be at least eight hundred, give or take a hundred or so, and still room to spare. _The old royalty must have planned some mighty big parties back in the day_, he mused. He didn't like being in crowds – too many ways something could go wrong. Too many ways a person could sneak past security.

Cain downed the last of his drink in one hit, and looked to the palace guard checking guests on their way in. He'd already had a meeting with the lieutenant about increasing security checkpoints and guarding every entrance and egress. He let his eyes slide around the room, mentally checking over every face for any sign of recognition. He had a pretty good memory of all the lowlifes and Longcoat leaders he'd come in contact with as a Tin Man and afterward in the resistance. But he conceded that this place was a madhouse and he couldn't very well check everyone.

Military leaders from other provinces surrounded the Queen and her consort, probably assuring her of their loyalties. Cain had to smirk – Ahamo looked like he couldn't make heads or tails of what they were talking about, but to give the man credit…he was at least trying to _pretend_ like he did.

Glitch was at the Queen's left, chattering animatedly with the advisors of other dignitaries. He looked to be within his element – Ambrose was obviously at the helm. Cain swung around and spotted Raw, standing in a circle of fellow Viewers and two or three barons from the far Northern territories. Raw was nodding, as a rather rotund woman kept leaning forward and asking him something. _If patience is a virtue, Raw has to be the most virtuous being in the whole of the O.Z._, Cain thought as he let a smile tilt at his lips.

A trumpet sounded, signaling for the crowd to gather at the staircase. Cain sighed, readjusted his coat, checked his tie and strode up the stairs. _Time to get this show on the road. _

The Queen and Consort stood at the foot of the stairs and greeted their guests. While the Queen spoke, her voice regally echoing off the walls with more force than Cain would have given credit for – _must have been some magical microphone _– Glitch jaunted up the first flight to stand next to him.

"This is so exciting!" He fidgeted with his coattails. Reaching up to check his hair, Glitch turned to Cain and asked, "Is my hair alright?"

Cain squinted at him as if to say, _'I look like a mirror to you?_' but answered shaking his head bemusedly. "Fine. You've got it so lacquered up and reflective you could use your head for a spotlight."

Glitch patted at his shellacked hair and scowled. "No surprise that fashion is a lost art on you, _Cain_."

Cain chuffed under his breath while the Queen finished her address. His eyes flicked to the head of the staircase, and he was horrified to feel those damn butterflies returning. _The pearly number DG wore the first time was distracting enough, what would she be wearing tonight? Would she remember how she jumped into his arms two nights before, or would she simply act like nothing had changed?_ He felt a pang in his chest at that thought, that she might go back to the way things had been in Finaqua, shutting him out in the cold.

Not that he didn't deserve it. With all the planning for the ball, Cain had hardly seen the princess since that night in the snow, and he now found that his mouth had gone dry.

_Ozma's Stars, man, what is the matter with you? She's not even here yet and you're fretting like a kid waiting for his first date! Pull yourself together, man_!

Just then, a trumpet bugled again and a skinny aide at the top of the stairs that had to be one hundred and fifty years old spoke into a megaphone and presented the princesses of the Outer Zone. Cain went rigid and stood at full attention.

He should have known Azkadellia would be first. When her name rang out, the crowd hushed. Even the musicians held onto their instruments for fear a string might twang at the wrong moment. Az appeared at the head of the staircase, dressed in a strapless number that looked like melted sapphires had been poured down her body.

She stood for a moment, and anyone who didn't know what to look for would have seen a woman calmly waiting to do something she'd probably done a thousand times before: be presented to her subjects. But Cain wasn't anybody and he caught the way her hand fisted around her cane like a vice. He caught the subtle tremble in her fingers as she lifted her skirt over her shoes to descend the steps toward Glitch.

She was terrified and Cain figured she had every right to be. The O.Z. might have accepted the death of the Witch, but most of its people had yet to accept Az as an innocent victim. Most let it go with simple distrust – but some of the more militant (and even a few of the former resistance fighters turned oyal military) wouldn't mind if she were gone altogether. She was going to have to earn her way back into the Realm's good graces, especially if she was to precede her younger sister to the crown.

Cain couldn't imagine DG taking the throne. That thought was almost too ridiculous to fathom, but as she was royalty, it _could_ happen. He banished that thought – it was not something he wanted to ruminate on, for it made his insides squirm uncomfortably.

Carefully, Az moved down the steps, her cane clicking in the silence until Glitch came up beside her and took her hand. Cain secretly envied the easy smile that lit up the advisor's face and the way it visibly settled Az. At the bottom of the stairs, Az greeted her parents with a graceful curtsy to the sound of subdued clapping and let Glitch guide her off to the side.

Cain's stomach flipped. _Oh gods, was he sweating?_ He swallowed thickly and watched the top of the staircase as if his life depended on it.

The aide's voice rang out again, calling DG to the forefront.

The raucous clapping and whistling cheers faded to the background, and it was as if someone had pushed a 'pause' button on Cain's world. He was pretty certain his heart had shuddered to a stop.

As DG crested the staircase into his view, he _knew_ his heart stopped. Her dress was crimson – deep and provocative, setting off the darkness of her hair and the blueness of her eyes. The neckline dipped low and skimmed the swell of her breasts, teasing his vision with the mounds of creamy skin. The garment molded to her figure with perfection, and she stood still like a statue of a Goddess in his mind.

Then, the world started again as she began to descend the steps toward him. Cain discreetly reached up and tugged at his collar, hoping steam didn't erupt out of it. DG held her head high, her expression carefully subdued and neutral – giving off an air about her that was beyond her years.

Cain had never found himself so thoroughly gob smacked. He'd never seen her move so gracefully – like a true princess. _Or queen._ His mind was attempting to wrap itself around this new vision of the woman he still called "kiddo" – when she appeared at his side.

The tips of his ears were red – he just knew it. Wetting his lips nervously, Cain gave her a somewhat lopsided smile. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, her attention to the people – who were cheering and apparently 'oo-ing and awe-ing' over her dress. _She'd stand out tonight, no doubt about that._

He offered his arm, and when she looped her hand in the crook of his elbow, he covered her tiny hand in his. It felt oddly natural. That was when he felt her nervousness through the slight tremble in her fingers. Smiling to himself, Cain felt his own butterflies settle as he gently assured her with a small squeeze of his hand. Comforting her fears took his mind off his own jitters and reactions to her presence, and he guided her down the steps like she'd been on his arm all their lives.

The crowds were still booming their welcome for the youngest princess as the orchestra started again. DG bent in a low curtsy, earning a glowing smile from her mother. Cain watched her, noticing how she moved as if she were afraid she'd break something, and he was aware of how her neutral expression was so very _un-DG_. As she came back to his side while the Queen addressed the crowd again, he eyed her surreptitiously from under veiled lids.

"You all right, kiddo?" He whispered. She didn't take his arm again, letting her hands fall to her sides, but he instantly regretted his word choice when he caught the slight tightening of her jaw.

DG kept her eyes forward while nodding only once. Then her eyes cut in his direction, but did not meet his. "I'm fine, Cain."

He watched her subtly brush him off and Cain mentally went to kicking himself for calling her the oh-so-hated diminutive. _Why do you keep doing that? All it gets you is the goddamned cold shoulder DG's so good at!_

It was because Cain was adept at subterfuge – blocking an attack. Calling her 'kid or kiddo' was a tactic meant to distance himself from the truth that threatened at his doorstep.

_Oh. Right._ That contemptible Inner Voice was back to its chastisements, and Cain gritted his teeth with every truth it uttered in his ear. _Go on ahead and tie yourself to those tracks, let the Denial Train run over your carcass a few times! As if seeing her dressed like that didn't set every one of those allusions to her youth that you keep on file, on a bonfire and turn them to smoke?!_ _Hell's bells and_ _Ozma's _fucking _stars, man! That is a _woman_ you escorted down those stairs!_

DG had wandered off into the crowd and Cain found himself watching her retreating form. She _was_ a woman. One that he had no right to want for himself. The minute he let his guard down, she was vulnerable. Distractions had costs and Cain wasn't willing to ante-up. Even if his Inner Voice was banging his head against his cell wall in frustration – he'd just have to get used to it.

Cain had a job to do.

-------------------------------------

The night wore on with drinking and dancing. Cain shadowed DG – watching her go through the motions of meeting and greeting every royal stuff shirt that passed by. Glitch took to introducing her and Az whenever he could, although Az had apparently had enough excitement for one night and had taken up refuge in a secluded corner with a couple of liaisons from the gem miners in the Southern province.

DG sipped on her second drink while she pretended to be interested in the young Duke at her side. Cain smirked at the way her eyes wandered away from his attention, and the way she kept shifting her weight. She wanted to bolt, and the Duke wasn't getting the message. _Stupid asshole._

He was about to go and suggest that the duke take a walk, when Cain stopped in his tracks, his mouth pressing to a thin line and the little muscle in his jaw twitching. A young, tall, and terribly dashing lieutenant in the Royal Army bowed low before DG and offered her his hand for a dance. The orchestra had just started playing a slow waltz. DG smiled, excused herself from the upstaged duke, and followed him out on the crowded floor.

Cain moved to a better vantage point and watched as the lieutenant encircled DG with his arm and guided her with expertise. Cain's grip on his empty glass tightened – the faint tinkle of stress on it an indicator that it was about to become shards.

Cain cut off his Inner Voice's "_spluttering who the fu-?"_ demand by running through a list of names that could belong to the lieutenant dancing with the princess. This chump was military, and he should know him. Trouble was, half the military was made up of young bucks, Jeb's age or younger. All the older officers around Cain's age he already knew – most of them former Tin Men.

The kid was a genius on the dance floor, Cain grudgingly had to admit, but what twisted like a knife in his gut wasn't that he was the perfect gentleman with DG, or that he had rhythm like Glitch. It was how damn good they looked together – DG smiling at something he'd said.

The knife wrenched again, his Inner Voice yelping, the imaginary reflection struggling to get it out of his midsection. Cain realized how good DG looked dancing with a handsome man her age. As many times as his dreams had painted a picture of DG dancing in _his_ arms, the reality in front of him suddenly made his throat close up. Cain didn't realize that he was growling until a man next to him sidled away quickly – just in time for the glass in his hand to crumble under his punishing grip.

Cain shook his hand and moved aside guiltily as a servant cleaned up the glass. He was acting like a fool, and now it was out there for everyone to see. As he made his way back to the bar, he caught DG's eyes for a moment, sighed through his nose and walked away.

--------------------

DG's feet were killing her. The guy who invented heels in the O.Z. was just as much a misogynistic bastard as the guy who invented them on the Other Side. She'd danced a few times with various men – the best one being the tall lieutenant, mainly because he didn't step on her or make a pass – but now all she wanted was a chair to sit down.

The room was filled with tinkling glasses, voices and the soft musical roll of the orchestra. DG made her way up the flight of stars leading to a catwalk-style walkway overlooking the ballroom. Several couples had already chosen that venue to get away from the bustle on the floor and engross themselves in private conversations. The walkway also led to a small balcony overlooking the west garden, with another set of stairs descending to the garden itself.

DG watched the snow falling slowly on the marble floor of the balcony – the sky swallowed in darkness except for one of the moons visible above the tree line. She watched her mother and father talking with every dignitary in the Realm. What had started to bother her was the way she would catch one of the men discreetly turn to appraise her while her mother was talking.

DG had the unsettling feeling that some of those invited to the ball were here in the hopes of establishing courting rights. _You shouldn't be surprised. Isn't that what queens did for their daughters? Fix them up without their say so?_ DG frowned, giving the man currently staring at her over the Queen's head a decidedly ugly look. The Queen would be in for a shock if that was what she was planning. _Of all the things they won't let me do on my own, I'll be damned if choosing a husband is going to be one of them. Let the dynasty and all moral traditions in the O.Z. crumble because of it. See if I care!_

DG leaned on the banister for a moment, scanning the dance floor below – when something in her chest, just below her breastbone, caught like a piece of meat being skewered. A familiar blond head emerged from the crowd, the black coat full of medals and the trousers made of the stuff sweaty dreams come from. DG's mouth fell open, eyes bugged.

Wyatt Cain was on the dance floor. With a woman. _Who the fu-?_ DG's Inner Voice strangled on the sight of the woman. She had no idea who she was – _probably some Duchess of Whateverville_ – and she was beautiful. Stunning. Long auburn hair, regal stature – she carried herself like a prize-winning thoroughbred, though DG could tell she was quite a bit older than herself. More Cain's age…actually.

Her Inner Voice let a string of expletives slide out softly as the pang in her chest turned into a knot that slowly started ripping itself apart. Her hand pressed against that place just between and under her breasts, as if trying to stem the tide of pain. DG watched the pair on the floor, dancing slowly and chatting. Cain didn't look bored, or like he'd been forced onto the dance floor by royal decree. He seemed to be talking amicably with his partner. DG took some solace in the fact that he wasn't laughing and falling all over himself because of her, but it wasn't always easy to read Wyatt Cain. He neither looked put-upon, nor did he look particularly enthralled.

_He is a gentleman,_ DG told herself. _Even if he was thinking about throwing the woman down and going at it in the middle of the floor or wanting to kick her ass out the door, he'd never show it. He's a goddamn robot! _DG breathed around the hole in her chest.

Realization set in like an anvil. Cain looked good with that woman – a woman his own age. Probably how he looked with Adora. _Oh God_, her Inner Voice wailed, _she's still haunting us now! Just like she haunts him!_

But DG didn't begrudge the dead woman her rights. She'd been his wife, his love and the mother of his child. She'd always be with him – even if a growing part of DG wished that he would someday have room for someone new.

The balcony and fresh night air beckoned the princess, and without sparing her Tin Man and his dance partner another glance, she picked up a brown fur wrap someone had left on a bench near the door and stepped out into the frigid night.

---------------------------------

After he'd bid his dance partner farewell – it had been nice seeing his old friend Mack's wife again – Cain went about pinning down DG's whereabouts again. He and Mack had gone through the Academy together and since his death in the resistance, Cain hadn't seen Mack's wife, Bella, in years. They'd been good friends to Cain and Adora.

Now, he growled at his inattentiveness and losing sight of his wayward princess, yet again. He'd checked to make sure none of the young lieutenants or dukes had whisked her away – _he'd break every damn bone in their body, screw royal hierarchy_ – but he was running out of places to look. Neither Raw nor Glitch had seen her leave out the front, and none of the guards had seen her retreat to her quarters.

He climbed to the overlooking walkway on the second level and scanned the entire ballroom. The Mid-Winter Ball's colors were mostly blue and white. The guests dressed accordingly in every shade of deep blue, whites, grays and blacks. But DG wore red. _Bless her_, that color was rich enough to make Cain's mouth water. So technically, he should have had no trouble spotting the only _lady in red_ in a crowd of several hundreds.

Just then, a snap of cold air caressed his face and Cain turned to the double doors that led to the west garden overlook. His mouth quirked in a knowing smirk – _she's gonna freeze her skinny ass off_ – and he opened the door into the cold night. It took him a moment to spot her; she was standing so still – her body wrapped in a thick fur that had slipped down her shoulders slightly.

She was silhouetted by the moon and Cain had to take a moment to compose his thoughts that had somehow left his brain. His heart rate had sped up again, _damn it_, and he took a few breaths, checking their surroundings before approaching.

"Wandering off again, Princess?" His breath plumed in the cold air. He stood behind her, fighting the urge to pull the wrap up on her shoulders. Her skin was pale in the moonlight and he suddenly would rather have wrapped his arms around her instead.

DG sighed. "Just getting some air. It's a little crowded in there and I needed a break from all the formalities."

Her voice was hushed and raspy, and Cain had an awful suspicion she'd been crying. He only needed to see her eyes to tell. Gingerly, he took the edges of the fur wrap in his fingers and shifted it up on her shoulders.

"You'll freeze out here," he said in a soft rumble. The action had the desired effect, for at his touch, DG turned to face him.

It never failed. Every time he saw tears or even the evidence of tears on her face, it hit him like a wrecking ball to the chest. Her eyes weren't red and there was no puffiness, but he _knew_ she'd been crying. Her cheeks held a subtle gleam to them that could only come from the tracts of tears. She looked at him and pulled back, putting some distance between them and Cain felt the familiar awkwardness that had plagued them for several months now, filtering back in. His Inner Voice kicked at his cage and howled at the thought that just when things seemed to be on the mend, something always happened to screw them up.

DG's eyes fell on the heart-shaped medal around his neck. "I didn't think I'd ever see you wear that again."

Grateful that she had chosen a safe subject, Cain smiled. "Yeah, well. Figured if I had to get dressed up with all these stupid things," he gestured to his ribbons, "what was adding one more medal to the lot?"

DG's eyes were solemn. "You're a brave man, Mister Cain. No harm in rewarding that."

Cain's Inner Voice squeaked in pain at the formality. _Gods, she's back to _Mister_ again? What the hell?_ He didn't like the tone of her words or the way she looked away from him. _Since when does she act like she hardly knows you_?

His brows furrowed worriedly. "Its never sat well with me… getting rewarded for doing what should come naturally for a man to do." He took a step forward. "And what's with all the formality? Did all those stuff shirt, highfalutin royal pansies in there finally brainwash you, DG?"

He meant to pull a smile out of her, but she only took another step toward the banister and leaned on the railing. Carefully, he sidled up beside her and leaned his forearms on the cold stone railing, looking over at her. She was keeping her eyes lowered and he swore he saw her lip tremble.

That got him. "DG, c'mon now. What's going on?"

"I'm just–" she started, but when she looked up at him, her face contorted in frustration. "Nothing. Forget it." When he went to grab her arm, exasperation boiling out of his ears, she sidestepped him and crossed her arms. "After this party is through, how long until you head out with Jeb?"

Cain's mouth bobbed open for a second, speechless. "Wait – _what_? Where did that come from?"

"How long until you leave with Jeb and a new regiment? You must be squirming to get out of here and back out there with him. The excitement of hunting the bad guys must really be tempting you to bust outta here by now."

She was cool, her arms crossed under her breasts, and if he hadn't been thunderstruck by her evasive flip of the conversation, he might have been distracted by the way her breasts swelled with every breath. _Whoa, back on target, m'boy_.

He advanced on her. "What makes you think I'm going anywhere, Princess? You think getting shot at by Longcoats is _exciting_? _Where have you been, DG_? Nothing about getting ambushed and held down by bullets zipping past your head is _exciting_ – you should know that first hand!" His arms splayed out in vexed confusion. "You think I was having a tea party out in those old woods the other night with those snipers?"

DG shifted a little, chagrined, but went on. "No, but you can't stand there and tell me that being stuck here to look after me is what you really want." Then she advanced on him, pointing a finger at his chest accusingly. "Admit it, Cain. I can see it in your eyes…you're going mad being cooped up here – going from palace to palace, making sure I get to my lessons on time."

Cain let out a breath that sounded more like a snarl. Shaking his head, he had to look away or she would see the partial truth reflected in his eyes. A part of him missed being on the open road, tracking Longcoat scum and planning military attacks. And he couldn't deny that spending time with Jeb was a blessing.

But…that was only a _part_ of him. A part that was rapidly diminishing the more time he spent with DG.

_Although with her attitude right now, making tracts in the other direction is starting to sound like a good idea!_

"Just admit it, Cain." Her voice had lowered. "Trust me. I know what it's like to have to stay somewhere you don't want to be."

There was that broken inflection in her voice again – the same one he'd heard when she ran off with books on travel storms.

"So, I'll do you a favor, all right? If this isn't where you want to be – go. I know the Queen has been thinking of making you a liaison between the crown and the military. I'll let her know that would probably be best for you. It would give you more time with Jeb anyway." She was avoiding his gaze, schooling her features around the tears he knew were about to fall. He wanted so badly to grab her and crush her in an embrace, but he was stung by what she was saying.

She was trying to cut him loose. Cain's Inner Voice fell to his knees wailing and yanking at his bars. _How can she do this? After everything we've-… after everything?! Does she really think you hate being around her that much – like you were some hog-tied lackey? She, above anyone else, should know that you don't do anything you don't want. And what you WANT is to stay at her side…_

Something bitter forced its way into his thoughts – _but what if she doesn't want _you_? She obviously isn't happy here either… maybe you're part of the reason_. Cain winced as something cold replaced the knife in his chest – an ice pick driven in by a sledgehammer.

"I don't need you to tell me where my _place_ is, Princess." His voice had dropped as well, and the surprise deep in her eyes made Cain feel like a bastard. But, at least he had her full attention now. "If you spent half the time you use wishing for a way out of this place you so obviously hate, on actually _trying_ to make the best of it and moving on with your life – you wouldn't be worried abut trying to fix _my_ problems! The sooner you learn that everything happens for a reason, DG, the sooner you might accept that _this_ _is_ the life you're supposed to have. You play the hand you're dealt."

Her mouth had gone slack – retorts obviously waiting to spill forth, but his voice cut across them hard, like a fist slamming into a wall. Cain had no idea where all of it was coming from, but obviously he'd been keeping some things pent up for too long. Even his Inner Voice was kneeling, dumbstruck into silence with saucer eyes.

"We all have a job to do here… a place in life, DG." Cain's tone was like gravel scraping across the floor, and he finally had to look away from her stricken face.

He turned away, looking out toward the frozen lake, his back to the stairs that led into the garden. His shoulders were pulled tight with frustration and anger – at DG and himself – and he knew that his words were shattering his princess like a delicate crystal vase. But it needed to be said and he was the only one she needed to hear it from.

He spoke again, this time his quiet timbre did not diminish the force of his words.

"I _know_ my job. I accept what I've been dealt. Gods help me…I wish you'd learn to accept _yours_."

He heard the footsteps, but the meaning did not register on him immediately. He heard a soft sob – part of his heart broke with the sound – as she moved away.

Her voice was stilted by the tears he knew were streaming down her beautiful face, but she was surprisingly strong with her final words to him.

"I never realized what an unfeeling _bastard_ you can be, Cain. _Tin Man._ My _God_, I suddenly find that _very_ appropriate."

Whoever said words cannot harm was one _stupid_ son-of-a-bitch. Words could mean everything to a person, if uttered by the one who holds their very being in the palm of their hands. Not since his wife had Cain been cut down by the words of a woman. For all his bravery, medals and experience – Wyatt Cain was no match for the tidal wave behind DG's parting words that gutted his soul and rusted his armor.

When he chanced a look over his shoulder, sure enough, DG had fled into the garden and disappeared into the night.

--------------------------

Clutching the wrap and refusing to break down into a puddle of sobs, DG trudged defiantly down the snow-covered path. She vehemently hoped Cain had the good sense not to follow her – or to seek her out for a long time. She needed space after the things that were said. And she was fully aware that the conversation had been a two way street.

She'd always spoke her mind, and it usually found her with either her foot in her mouth, or someone blowing up at her. She really couldn't blame Cain for that – she knew him well enough to know how to push his buttons. Telling him his place was a sure-fire way to set off an atom bomb dubbed: "Tin Man". But, in all truth, she had only been thinking of what was best for him. _Wasn't that what he was always telling her that he did? Doing what was best for her?_

The last thing she wanted was for him to end up resenting her for keeping him where he did not want to be.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she swallowed the sobs. DG wasn't going to fall down and cry. She'd done that quite enough since she arrived in the O.Z. _Suck it up, girl. You're an adult._

DG paused in her wandering to take stock of her surroundings. The snow was falling in her hair and misting the dark fur of her wrap in white. Looking around, DG realized that she had never taken that particular path before out of the garden. It just seemed like she knew where she was going.

A light winked in the distance. Squinting, DG remembered the light she thought she'd seen from her bedroom the night she dreamt the vision. It winked again, and DG hiked up her dress and jogged toward it.

Like a firefly it flashed in a broken line ahead of her, here and there. Curious, DG wondered if it were a fairy or some other flying creature that was supposed to only exist in books. Finally, it lit on a dead branch in a secluded part of the forest.

DG pulled her wrap tight and approached the tree. She was about to reach up on her tip-toes, extending her hand toward the little blue-gray light, when a voice wafted in on the night breeze, like dead leaves over frozen grass.

"I told you that you would find me when the time was right, child."

_**TBC…

* * *

**_

Okay. My fingers hurt. That was beyond long. **Next chapter SOON**! So while my fingers get feeling back in them, you guys should hit that **REVIEW** button and let me know what **YOU** think? Like DG/Cain's Inner Voices? How was the ball? Did you beat them both with a bat while reading? Let me know!  
Thanks to beta **Meridith Paris** for her help with this monster! 


	8. The Proposition

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters. I own nothing. I do own a horse. I'd ride a Tin Man if I owned one, but alas, Sci-Fi is stingy with those precious things.

**A/N:** Apologies for the long wait, guys. Real life, _Tin Man_ one-shots and newly discovered interest in McDonough's defunct series "_Medical Investigation_" conspired against me. I know it's no excuse, but there it is. Do with it what you will. In the mean time, enjoy this update!

**HUGE THANKS** to _**Celia Stanton**_, _**Meredith Paris**_ and _**Chichuri**_ for their wonderful beta skills and time spent with me discussing the nuances of character development and general _Tin Man_ sweet goodness. 

**Home**

**Chapter 8 "The Proposition"**

If there was ever a time for DG to listen to the tiny voice of reason in her head that was screeching at the top of its lungs for her to hike skirts and run like hell, this was it. The strangely familiar voice seemed to reach into her head and flick her memory with its fingers. But still, the surprise of discovering that she was not alone in the frozen wood made her jump a half foot in the air with a squeak. 

Whirling, she faced her intruder, clutching at the fur wrap around her shoulders. "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

She wasn't entirely certain that the being she was talking to wasn't a part of the fauna – there was only a shadow where the voice had come from – big, bulky and formless. Still the familiarity of the whole situation kept knocking at DG's psyche and she slowly remembered where she'd heard the same raspy voice. 

Squinting, DG took a step forward. "I know you."

"You do," the shadow said. Slowly the form pulled away from the hollow of the tree across from the princess and moved into the moonlight. "As for your questions of who I am and where I am from, well, we shall get to that in time."

It shuffled forward, a spindly grey stick of an arm protruded from the long sleeve of the robe, gasping a carved staff. Claws replaced nails at the ends of its fingers and DG suppressed a shudder. She wasn't sure she wanted to get the whole picture of whatever was under that monk-like hood.

She watched the hand that held the staff and hugged herself tighter. "You were in my dream… my dream about…" she paused, not knowing how much she should say in front of this stranger. She flicked her eyes to the branch where the little light she'd followed had been. "Did you do that?" She motioned with her head toward the branch.

The hood tilted and DG caught a glimpse of milky-white eyes glowing in the dark spot where a face should have been. "I thought it wise to summon you in a subtle manner. You seemed to need something to take your mind off the…" he had a smile in his rusted voice, "… _troubles_ you are experiencing."

_Good God, were she and Cain that loud on the balcony?_ DG shifted uncomfortably. She was known for making a scene, though the one between her and Cain was one she didn't want broadcasted. 

"I'm not having any problems. Just…a disagreement." She cast a glance over her shoulder, idly wondering how far she'd come from the garden, and if Cain was still sulking on the balcony. 

"Child, of all the beings in the Realm I have been in contact with, yours is the soul most troubled." The robed form moved a little closer and DG, out of pure morbid curiosity, leaned in to see under the hood. 

As if to give her what she desired, the hood tilted back enough to let the moonlight glint across the side of his face. DG's sharp intake of air made him smile. She could see pale gray skin pulled over a skeleton's grin – the bones of his skull poking out from under the paper-thin sheath of skin. Wrinkles and scars riddled the surface of it, while the places where normal eyes should have sat were nothing but sunken holes. The milky orbs stared out of the sunken holes, unblinking like a snake. The thin lips pulled over jagged, yellowed teeth were set in what DG could only hope was a smile, but she didn't want to look at it long enough to know for certain. 

Finally, she turned away; swallowing and the old shell of a creature chuckled breathlessly. 

"You turn from my ugliness. I am a poor excuse for a being it is true. Such wretchedness should not be inflicted on a royal beauty, and for that, I am sorry." His tone was soft and unassuming, almost like he was sorry to have interrupted her little escapade into forest. 

That touched DG's pity. "No, I'm sorry." She turned back to him and schooled her features. "I didn't mean to stare. I just wasn't expecting to see someone who'd been in my dreams a few nights ago actually here. In the flesh."

The Old Man bowed slightly, and then leaned on his staff. "You are greatly troubled, child. I was drawn to your spirit's turmoil, so that I might help."

DG scoffed and eyed him. "You keep saying that I'm troubled, but really it's–"

He cut her off, pointing a gnarled finger at her. "You are terrified. It emanates from you like waves, young one. You hide the things you feel from those close to you, because you fear their reaction. In this world, you are a stranger, caught like a leaf in the current being swept out to sea."

DG felt a shudder work its way down her spine. The more he spoke, the wider her eyes grew. 

"You _desire_…" he hissed, tilting his head to one side and studying her. "You desire a home. Your _old_ home. Where you felt safe and normal and all the things you have not felt since coming to this realm."

Now, DG took a shaking step back. _What in the hell?_ "Who _are_ you?" She asked again, her tone trembling.

His face, horrible as it was, seemed to work itself into something resembling sympathy. "Do not fear, child. I am but an old man with the gift of foresight. I can enter dreams, manipulate the present and even bestow visions of the future. The Zone has allowed me to link with its magic."

He reached out a hand toward the snow where a small bush was lying dormant under its white blanket. DG watched as an ethereal light emanated from the Old Man's hand and washed over the bush – the snow melting and the bush's leaves popping out in new green glory. Tiny white blossoms followed the leaves; opening like spring had just dawned.

Her brows furrowed, and for a moment, DG was tempted to say, _"Big deal. I can do that too."_ (although her magic had been sorely lacking of late) – but suddenly the light grew brighter. The bush morphed into an icy blue spire, jutting up from the ground like a unicorn's horn. 

_Okay. Can't do __**that**_

"You say the O.Z. _itself_ gives you its magic?"

His hand gestured all around them. "It gives us _all_ our magic, Princess. Those of us with the Light are connected to the Realm."

DG frowned. "Well, Mother Zone has been stingy with my portion lately."

"Your connection with her is faltering; that is why you cannot wield your Light as you once could." The Old Man looked at her worriedly. "I could help you, you know."

DG felt a huge 'but' coming. She wasn't in the mood for a sales pitch. Her feet were freezing and the temperature felt like it had dropped about a dozen degrees. She licked her lips and gathered her dress.

"Yeah, well, thanks but no thanks, sir. I found my Light after fifteen years, I think I can find it again." She started off the way she'd come. "I'd better be going."

The trees closed in around the path as thick brambles and vines knotted themselves together. The wood groaned in protest like an old guard warning her off, and all at once, the forest sealed her into the clearing. DG looked for a hole in the wall but found none. Fear inched its way up her chest and she tried to control her breathing.

"Um, I already have a tutor to help with my magic," she said shakily. "But I appreciate your offer to help."

His deathly cold voice was right at her ear, stealing her breath away. She couldn't even scream. 

"Your magic is _not_ what I was offering to help you with, dear one."

* * *

Cain was only conscious of the cloud that pulsed in front of his face in time with his breathing. The falling snow had long since caked on his dress coat, warming and melting with his body heat to a wet sheen upon it, only to refreeze to ice again. His hands gripped the stone railing with unyielding force, and, had he been able to feel it, his fingers would have been aching from lack of circulation and build up of ice. It should have occurred to him that some time had past and the temperature was dropping, while he stood staring off over the frozen lake, yet he remained oblivious. His eyes – color as frigid as his surroundings – cut through the growing darkness and snow to remain fixed on the farthest shore; his mouth turning down slightly at the corners. Words and their underlying meanings warred in his head. 

He'd hurt her, that much was obvious. _But dammit. It needed to be said. If DG didn't grow up and accept her life, she'd spend all of it waiting for something else to come along that just wasn't coming._ Not that he had a lot of room to talk about taking life by the horns. His had been set out for him since his teens: entering the academy and becoming the lawman he'd dreamed about, and gaining a spot on one of the most important protection details. Cain had accepted the change that came with the Witch's uprising and fell into the new role of resistance fighter without complaint – even if he saw that unspoken complaint in Adora's worried eyes. 

Ever the strong woman, she followed her husband into the resistance, though looking back, Cain realized the strain it put on her. The missions that seemed to do nothing but extend his absences from that little cabin and his family only seemed to intensify the grief that lingered in Adora's eyes upon his return.

For as glad as she was to see him, she knew their time together would be brief. His return only marked the countdown until he left again. 

Cain had kept both feet planted securely in his new life, much to the detriment of his marriage. And he'd had a long time to think about that sealed in his tin prison. So many regrets. Seeing the pain in DG's eyes was just another to add to the growing list.

He hadn't meant to sound so uncaring when the truth was the exact _opposite_. In fact, he cared _too_ much. The irony of it reached up and slapped him across the face. He'd hurt DG because he cared – he didn't like seeing her mope around, a shadow of her former self, pining away for something that was likely beyond her grasp. Part of him was afraid, because if DG wanted a change in her life, that change might _not_ include him. For all he knew, she wanted to run away to some far corner of the O.Z., away from her heritage, the pomp and circumstance, find herself a man and make a life of her own. 

He couldn't blame her for wanting to get away when he himself loathed the duties of being amongst royalty. But he'd come to this palace, entrenched himself in this environment because of her. He'd stayed because of _her_.

Cain moved for the first time in what could have been ages, leaning forward, propping an elbow on the railing and running that hand over his face. 

"_You're not happy here, Cain. Go_." Her words rolled around in this head, shattering things as they went. 

She was right; he wasn't happy. He wasn't happy with the back and forth lifestyle he'd been living of late. He wasn't happy with the fluctuations in the level of security in and around the palace and the growing feeling of unrest he felt when he and his scouts patrolled – as if the tension in the air was making nerves stand on end, warning him attack was imminent. It was wearing on a person to have to shoulder the brunt of the responsibility of safeguarding so many lives – precious lives – when the very atmosphere reeked with instability. 

And he certainly wasn't happy watching the princess falling further and further into depression and self-doubt. Cain wasn't used to feeling helpless, but he found himself woefully inadequate in determining the princess' emotional needs. If he couldn't even sort out his own feelings and needs, how the hell was he supposed to help her?

Just then a blast of warmed air stuck his back, and Cain straightened as his solitude was interrupted by a new presence on the balcony. 

"Wondered where you'd snuck off to." Jeb's voice was tired, but didn't hold an accusatory tone. 

Cain cleared his throat, surprised to find it raw from the cold air and caustic words he'd spoken earlier. "Just getting some air." 

"Don't blame you for that, it was getting stuffy in there." Jeb appeared at Cain's side and leaned his forearms on the railing. "Party's winding down though, thank the gods. Most of the royal stuffed shirts have left."

He looked over at his father, and furrowed his brow. He knew his father was adept at hiding deeper emotions, but something in the set of his shoulders was off. 

Jeb looked back out over the garden. "The princess has been missed. Her father asked where she was a while back, and I told him," he paused, glancing at Cain's profile, "that she was fine. She was safely under the watch of the royal guardian himself."

The last bit was delivered with a flourish of the hand, and Cain cut his eyes at his son. Jeb's tone had a mocking sting to it, and frankly, Cain wasn't in the mood.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean, _son_?"

Jeb straightened and turned to face his father. He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the older man. "I saw you follow her out here hours ago. Neither of you came back in."

Cain narrowed his eyes. "And? We were having a conversation. I don't see how that warrants sarcasm." 

Jeb made a point of glancing around the balcony. "Must not've gone well. She didn't go back in and she's not out here with you."

At that, Cain bristled. _Bad enough DG telling me my place and suggesting to do me favors, as if she'd know how to instruct me in the lessons of life – now Jeb's digging in the spurs…_

"What goes on between me and DG is none of your business, kid." He growled and pinned his son with a glare that, had the kid been any younger and less marred by war and real life, might have made him cower to his father's will. 

But, as Cain was constantly reminded, he didn't know his son. "Whatever is going on between you and the _Princess_ won't stay between the two of you for long." His voice had lowered, accusation now clearly ringing through. 

Cain's mouth hung open for a moment and Jeb filled in. "No one heard the words, Father, but I saw your _conversation_ through the window."

A sigh blew out of Cain's chest in a rush, and he turned around, leaning his back against the railing while his hands scrubbed tiredly over his face. "Ozma's stars…" he muttered.

Jeb watched his father struggle with himself for a moment, then scratched his head distractedly and leaned his back against the railing, mirroring his father's stance. 

"Far be it from me to give advice..." 

"Then _don't_," Cain barked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Jeb growled something and pulled away from the rail. "Alright. Then let me play devil's advocate for a moment." When the elder Cain looked up, slightly shocked at the added years of age forced into his son's voice, Jeb shifted his weight, and gestured with one hand. "Where do you think this will get you? Whatever '_this'_ is between the two of you?"

Cain grimaced. "I think you've got the wrong idea, son."

"No, I'm pretty sure I have the right idea. I think you're the one who has no idea which way is up."

His father's look was doubtful. 

"I may be young, but I'm far from blind." That wiped the fatherly _'oh-you're-too-young-for-this-kind-of-talk'_ look right off Cain's face. "The royal family isn't blind either."

_Shit._ Cain gulped. He'd put a bullet in his own head before having to explain himself to the Queen – even if he hadn't technically done anything. A quick death was better than a lingering one from embarrassment. 

Jeb caught his eye again. "She's a princess of the Zone."

Unable to hold his son's gaze, Cain's only response was a short, curt nod as he shifted his weight impatiently.

"So, what's–"

"I don't know, dammit." A hand went over his half-frozen blond hair in frustration. It was torture having to discuss this with his son. "Things haven't been right since the damned Eclipse. Every time I'd leave to meet you and the military, it would feel like I was doing the right thing. Then…" he gave a half shrug. 

Jeb frowned, clearly surprised by his father's confusion. 

"…I'd feel like I was leaving her exposed. Unprotected. And I had to come back." Cain continued, his gaze alternating from Jeb to the floor and all points in between. "Then… when I was around her…" he struggled, conflicting emotions creasing the worry lines on his face, "…I don't know. Part of me knew that feeling like that around her wasn't right, and part of me didn't give a damn. I hated it. It's a distraction, and in this job distractions cost _lives_."

Cain's right hand rubbed his chin in thought, his eyes veiled with fatigue from fighting himself. Jeb sighed. 

"You think your feelings are getting in the way of your protecting her?"

Cain looked to his son. His eyes flickered with the dawning truth, and Jeb could see pain deep in the blue depths. 

Cain's voice hardened. "If that's true, than I'm no good to her here." His jaw tightened and Jeb could see the walls going back up. 

"You think your leaving will fix things for DG?" Jeb asked. 

The older man shrugged one shoulder. "She told me she was releasing me from my duties here, regarding her." His voice dipped, betraying the hurt Jeb had seen in his eyes. "If my leaving will ease her mind, even just a little… I don't know what else to do."

Jeb was momentarily taken aback. He'd never thought he'd live to see the day when Wyatt Cain gave up on something. But he also knew his father was doing it to spare any more discomfort to the princess, although Jeb was fairly sure that the Tin Man wasn't the root of _all_ the wayward princess' problems. 

"Perhaps some distance between the two of you will do you both good," Jeb supplied. When Cain looked up, Jeb shrugged. "As you said, you aren't doing her any favors hanging around here with your head being pulled in ten different directions."

Cain wondered for a moment if it were really his head – not his heart – that was being tugged in different directions. _Probably both_. Maybe Jeb was right; distance between them might be best. DG certainly indicated that she'd be happier if he wasn't around – the thought twisted the blade in his heart again and he couldn't help but wince. 

Jeb placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "I know you think you are the only one who can protect DG." Cain shot him a glance that all but screamed 'damn straight,' but Jeb just grinned. "But I think she'll be alright with the palace guards. Especially when the royal family makes it back to Finaqua and out of these damn forests."

Still unsure, Cain sighed and gave his son a sideways smile. The thought of leaving her, when he knew the road to the South was unsafe, worried him, but his nerves probably couldn't handle the added tension that would be increased tenfold after their little _discussion_ that night. He'd be an utter wreck. He was nearly there now. 

Jeb had turned, striding towards the door to leave his father to his contemplations when Cain stopped him.

"Hey kid," Cain pushed himself away from the icy stone railing. "Saddle my horse for me and round up your replacement troops. Tell them to pack extra cold weather gear; night travel is no picnic. We'll leave in an hour."

Jeb studied him for a moment, as if to make sure that this was the decision Cain really wanted to make. Night travel on horseback in winter was not recommended, but the reason was obvious: leave now to avoid DG. The younger man seemed to read the decision crystallizing in Cain's eyes and nodded. 

The two reentered the palace to make preparations. Cain had stayed for her. 

Now, he'd leave for her.

* * *

DG jumped away from the Old Man's too near voice. "What do you mean? What else could I possibly need your help with? Hell, I don't even know _who_ you are!" 

Papery lips pulled back into a smile. "I am your friend, Princess. And I can help you gain that which you desire." His hand opened before her and a small orb of light blossomed in his palm. It grew translucent and DG's eyes widened in wonder as the orb became like a tiny mirror. Images swept past the tiny magic screen and she instantly recognized them.

"The mirror in my room," she whispered. "It showed me my home in Kansas…just like that."

"Yes. The Outer Zone will answer your calls and show you what you truly want." He looked at the orb. "You wish to see the Other Side again, to slip back to your old home. Where things weren't complicated or assumed."

DG swallowed. "I used to feel like I didn't belong there, like I was supposed to be somewhere else…but now…"

"You did not belong there, child," he purred. "Your lineage is here. But you long for a chance to feel the freedom you had while on the Other Side, yes?"

She hugged the fur wrap around herself and looked away. Was it really so evil of her to want a reprieve from her new life? Was it really so bad that she missed being plain-old DG, stuck in Dullsville, Kansas, living a plain, old life without a crown or royal duty? 

The Old Man let the light fade in his hand, his voice sympathetic. "It is not wrong to want what you once had, Princess." 

"What good does it do me, though? I can't go back, and I don't know how to go forward." She sighed and looked at the spire of ice where the bush had been. "I'm like that bush – frozen."

The Old Man swept his hand over the spire of ice and DG watched as it morphed into the little grey fairy light she'd followed into the woods. The little light danced over to the claw-like hand, which closed over it slowly. 

"Things aren't always what they seem, dear one." He said. 

DG raised a brow skeptically. "Well, it seems to me that there's no way I could get to Kansas, even for a visit, so what's the point?"

"The Zone can produce magic powerful enough to give you even that desire, my Princess. Have you not heard of Travel Storms?"

Her heart sped up in hope for a moment. "You can do that?"

The Old Man's hood bobbed. "I could teach you how to tap into the power of the Zone."

"I doubt my magic is strong enough for that."

"But mine is." His eyes scanned her and DG felt another chill slink down her spine. "I can teach you how to utilize the power of the Zone herself, so that you may slip from one side to the other whenever you wish."

DG felt temptation like a person behind her, squeezing her shoulders encouragingly. If it really was just a matter of working with Mother Zone (and part of her wondered why Tutor hadn't mentioned this particular chapter of the "_Magical Me_" book yet) then perhaps it could be as easy as taking a vacation from the O.Z., where she could come back whenever she wanted. 

Reality chose that moment to give her a good kick in the ass. _Nothing is ever that easy. _Here she had a mysterious old wizard, offering her his basket of beautiful apples – right when she happened to have a craving for them – tempting her with their wonderful flavor. _This scenario never worked out well for Snow White…_

"What's the catch?" DG narrowed her eyes. When he didn't answer right away, she sauntered away, still keeping him in her peripheral vision. "See, you come with a great offer and all, but it's just a _little_ convenient. Me finding someone who can give me what I want at _just_ the right time?" She smirked over her shoulder at him. "What do you get out of this?"

Her confident smirk faded when he laughed – a cold, haunting sound that was better suited to graveyards on windy nights. 

"Ever the smart one, child. You are truly a credit to the crown." He leaned on his staff. "My purpose is to help sooth your troubles, Princess, that is true… but I require your assistance as well. Three items that were once in my possession have been lost over the ages. I need your help to retrieve them."

He shuffled feebly for a moment, his eyes passive. "I assure you my needs are few. Just those three items returned to my rightful ownership. And for that, I will teach you how to use the power of the Outer Zone to achieve your desires. And," he added like sugar topping the dessert, "perhaps you will use this knowledge I will bestow upon you for the betterment of your kingdom."

That sweetened the pot. Even though she wanted a minor vacation from the Realm, DG wasn't about to give up the opportunity to help its people if it was in her power. If the Old Man could strengthen her magic and knowledge of her new home, she could use it to help her family during the growing unrest. Help with the army's efforts with the Longcoat factions; maybe even restore her sister's health. Temptation was now whispering in her ear. 

"What items?" She asked. 

The Old Man shrugged. "Simple things, really. A book containing spells and histories of the Zone, a ruby challis and a glass orb. They are scattered throughout the Realm and I'm afraid in my advanced age, I'm not able to trek to their hiding places."

DG chewed her lip. _How hard could that be? Find the old guy's lost junk and get a ticket back to Kansas. It might even be fun to get away from the family, from…_her mind ground to a screeching halt. There was one thing that would surely be standing in her way if she tried to traipse off on some scavenger hunt. And it wore a six-shooter, rumbled fedora and a stubborn streak a mile wide. 

Her stomach flipped, her mind reeling back to the fight on the balcony. If she tried to go, Cain would make her tell him why. And he'd be _pissed_ about it. The way he'd run after her when he thought she was trying to summon a travel storm – DG didn't want to deal with that look on his face again. It stole a hunk of her heart and held it hostage, and she didn't know how much more she could allow him to take. It was agonizingly obvious that he'd rather be somewhere else, _doing_ something else, but there were times – moments when something flickered in those icy blue eyes – when she thought he was glad to be near her. 

It was all a frustrating wreck of emotions neither of them was willing to deal with, and DG didn't think she could stand to stir the pot again. 

Finally she turned, pacing back toward the bramble wall that had grown to block her egress "I don't know. I doubt I'd be allowed to go on a scavenger hunt all over the O.Z." _Actually, I _know_ he wouldn't allow it…_

All seemed to quiet around her except for the ringing truth in the Old Man's suddenly strong voice. "He won't be waiting for you when you return, you know."

She halted, frozen by his words. 

The snow crunched behind her. "He's taken his leave of you, as you suggested. You needn't worry about confronting him when you return."

"H-He left?" She whirled around. "How do you know? How do you know what I told him earlier?"

The Old Man tilted his head. "I told you, child, I am linked to the Zone. That means, in a way, I am linked to you."

Unnerved, DG felt her shoulders shaking, though not from the chill in the air. "I don't believe you. Cain wouldn't leave… not without telling me."

A voice in her head laughed sardonically at that. _Of course he would, he's done it before._

Perhaps he'd just been waiting for her to give the okay for him to take the Queen's assignment as military liaison. He'd probably been _dying_ to get away…

DG felt her lip tremble but refused to tear up. The Old Man seemed to sense her distress. "Dear one, do not let yourself be saddened by this. Your Tin Man is doing what is in his nature. His duty. His princess gave him his leave and he accepted. Why let your heart fret over one whose heart dose not bid you the same courtesy?"

The princess looked up, shocked by his statement, though he'd spoken a secret fear that had been festering in her soul. "Cain cares. He cares about me… he just-" _Whom are you trying to convince, DG?_

The Old Man finished her sentence. "…he just does not feel for you the way you think he should. The way you feel for him."

DG sagged under the weight of his words. She didn't even flinch when she felt the spindly hand of the old wizard come to rest on her shoulder. His voice was assuring and something in DG – something that needed whatever assurances there were to offer – was comforted by it. 

"The Tin Man is a sanctimonious one, is he not? Telling you to accept change when he himself cannot let go of his demons. When his own heart is shackled in the past…to a ghost?"

Something strangled rose from DG's throat. "I can't…" She turned away from the reality and swiped at her eyes. "He really left?"

She didn't need an answer; she knew the Old Man was right. About everything. She needed to get out of there, out of the freezing snow, away from the man who seemed to read her innermost thoughts. She needed to see for herself that Cain had left. Slowly, DG began to sew her rent heart back together with what felt like razor wire. _Maybe it's best they get some distance between them_ – she just never thought Cain would actually _do_ as she suggested. 

"I need to return. Tell your bewitched vines to let me pass, Old Man, before the whole palace starts combing these woods for me." Her voice took on authority befitting her station, but it didn't impress the old wizard.

He smiled benignly. "I never said we were still in the old forest near the Northern Palace, my princess." 

Fear snatched DG's heart like a steel trap. It was entirely possible he had created some alternate realm for them; she wouldn't have known the difference. The Witch's prison where the Queen had been kept leapt to DG's mind and she turned to beseech her captor. If he'd meant to scare her with that little off-handed comment, it worked. 

But he waved her off, still smiling. The wall of thorns and vines pulled back, revealing the familiar trail she'd followed out of the garden and into the woods. DG looked from the path to the wizard and back again, unsure. 

"I have never meant you any harm, Princess, and that will always be the case. I have plead my case, and given you my offer. It is up to you whether or not to accept." He bowed low, gesturing to the path. When DG swept up her skirts and started off, he called out, "The book is called the Oraculum." The princess paused mid-step. He said, "It can be found in the oldest section of the library at Finaqua."

Curiosity overtook DG and she turned slightly. "Where in the library?"

"In a place that is not truly a place."

DG's nose wrinkled, puzzled. "_What_?" 

"You will be able to discover its hiding place, Princess – of that I have no doubt." The Old Man gripped both hands on his staff, milky eyes trained on her form.

"How do I get the book to you if I find it?"

She caught sight of his ragged yellow smile, as the rest of his body seemed to be melting into the darkness of the glen. His voice floated from nothingness as the open glen fell into shadow and DG found herself backing away, before something else sprung up to stop her. 

"Do not worry, dear one. I shall find you when you do."

_**TBC… 

* * *

**_

Yeah. Another cliffie. I guess I should tell you guys to get used to those; I'm rather evil about ending chapters with them. Now its time to hit the **REVIEW** button and tell me what **YOU** think. And I can probably guess - people are fuming about Cain's idiotic manish-ness. Sorry. There is a reason for it, though. **FEED the Author's Need**! Next Chapter SOON – **Stay Tuned!**


	9. A Book by its Cover

**Disclaimer****:** See previous chapters. No infringement intended, as this is for entertainment purposes only.

**A/N:** I discovered McDonough in _Boomtown_. I know it's no excuse for my tardiness, but c'mon. It was Neal in _Boomtown_! Oh well, here we get to kick off some B-plot, more mystery, more angst…and yes, Cain really left. Don't fret; there is a reason for my madness. Thanks to all who've stuck with me, all of your emails/reviews/virtual pokings are appreciated! Enjoy!

**Chapter 9 "A Book by its Cover"**

The tree branches creaked as the late night wind pushed through them. A high blanket of clouds had rolled in, obscuring most of the stars, and only allowing the second moon scant views of the world below. Morning would be coming soon, and the cloaked figure standing on the snow bluff overlooking the frozen lake turned his head from the shaded moon and back to the valley below.

He watched the speck of the princess as she made her way through the palace garden, disappearing a few moments later through a side door of the building. The muscles in his face protested the movement, but his papery lips spread into a satisfied smirk.

"Will she cooperate?"

The Old Man's eyes shifted to the left as he was joined on the bluff. As the newcomer took up a station slightly behind the old wizard, the only sound was the snow crunching under his boots and his long coat rustling in the breeze.

The Old Man turned his attention back to the palace. "She will. She has no choice."

The newcomer shifted, crossing his arms over his chest, doubt coloring his voice as he spoke. "Yeah. Fate and all that."

The hooded head dipped as the old wizard drew in a breath. When he turned his head to face the man beside him, only his eyes were visible from the blackness shading his face.

"Do _not_ mock what has been set forth by the Ancients, young one."

His breath didn't even register in the ambient air, and the younger man dropped his hands from his chest, breaking the disbelieving stature. He took a wary step back from the icy warning in the Old Man's tone.

His pale blue eyes shifted nervously. "I apologize, my lord. But I've dealt with this young woman, and she's never been one to…" he paused, "…well, let's just say she doesn't always follow the rules."

The Old Man looked back toward the valley. "Your fault lies in underestimating her importance, my young friend. I, however, am fully aware of her potential – what she is capable of, and her place in the grand scheme of things."

The younger man ran a hand over his dirty blond hair and sighed. "I still don't think it's a good idea. Her link to her friends is strong. They're not going to let her trek out to find the artifacts without trying to talk her out of it."

"The princess's link to her friends, her connection to one in particular, is all part of the plan." He leaned on his staff and chuckled. "The Prophesy has given me what I need in order to set my pan into motion."

"The Emerald of the Eclipse is useless now, my lord. How-"

His cloak whirled with him as he turned on the younger man, snow wafting around him like smoke. "Do you really believe the ancients had but _one_ prophesy concerning the Zone? There are things in this world far older and darker than cave witches and gemstones." The light surrounding the two from the moonlight seemed to be sucked into the Old Man's being, as though he were a magnet drawing in everything good around him and replacing it with inky blackness.

His companion moved a full step away from the sucking gloom, his eyes wide with fear. But the wizard waved his bony hand and the oppressive moment faded. The younger man seemed to gulp the air, as if it had been snatched from his lungs. He looked out toward the Northern Palace again, his face turning to stone in hatred.

The Old Man smiled. "You wish revenge on the Tin Man Cain, do you not?" The muscle in the other man's jaw twitched as he stared into the distance. The Old Man moved toward him, placing a claw-like hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch.

"I want him dead. I want him more than dead," the blue eyed man's voice was deathly calm. "I wanted everything he holds dear to be killed in front of him. The tin suit was too easy. I want him to suffer in real time."

"Patience." The Old Man turned back to the valley below them and leaned both hands on his staff. "Vengeance comes to those who wait. The Tin Man has a part to play, yet."

"He won't stray from her for long, my lord," the younger man sneered. "Tin Men like him never change. Always bound to duty: protect the innocent. Pathetic holdovers from a time gone by."

"Your presumptuousness will be your undoing, Zero. You underestimate the Tin Man like you underestimate the young princess. You'd do well to remember that I _alone_ know how and where the pieces will fall into place, and that _you_ follow my orders." The wind gusted with the wizard's words and the former Longcoat leader tried to hide the shiver.

"Yes, my lord."

"Have faith, young one," the Old Man said after a moment. "Have faith in the Prophesy. Soon, we shall have the first piece of the trinity, and we shall be that much closer to our goals."

The Old Man turned to his follower and gestured into the woods. "Now go. Send a contingent of men to follow the Tin Man and his son. Give him a little _something_ to take his mind off his princess for a while." He flashed a yellow smile. "But remember, he stays alive and unharmed. Or _you_ will _not_."

Zero swallowed, and then bowed. He backed away a few steps, as though he were afraid turning his back on the Old Man would be disrespectful and dangerous. He disappeared into the woods.

The wizard took one last look out over the frozen lake and the ice palace situated on its banks. His voice was ethereal – a sigh in the wind as his form began to melt once again into the darkness.

"…When tome and goblet and orb reunite, by blood all magic in the land shall be slain."

* * *

The ballroom was nearly empty by the time DG returned. The servants were cleaning the tables, the musicians packing up their instruments, and the clanking of silverware and glasses echoed loudly.

DG shook the snow that encrusted her fur wrap off onto the marble floor, before dropping the thing unceremoniously by the door. Even as the warmed air of the room revived the circulation in her fingers and toes, she still couldn't get warm. The Old Man's words still chilled her to the bone.

"_He won't be waiting for you when you return…"_

DG felt his absence as keenly as she always did. Every time Cain left, she felt incomplete and restless, as if a part of her was missing and she was compelled to search everywhere until she found it. She hugged herself and trudged up the stairs toward her quarters.

Her eyes remained glued to her shoes, her mind filtering through the events of the evening – starting and stopping like a deranged chainsaw slicing through her mind's eye, always returning to those moments on the balcony – and she didn't hear her name until the second, more forceful call.

"DG."

DG stopped and sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. Az's cane clicked along the marble as she walked, coming to her sister's side.

"Where have you been, little sister? Mother asked for you all evening." Az tilted her head, dark strands of raven hair falling over her shoulders. She looked hard at her younger sister. "Have you been crying?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me." Az took her hand, the warmth of her magic, feeble as it was, spread into DG's arm and made her wince. "You're frozen. How long were you outside?"

"A while. I needed some air, Az, that's all." DG pulled her hand back and found something to look at off to the side.

Az seemed to search DG's face for a moment, her hand reaching back out to claim her sister's again. DG saw something flicker in Az's dark eyes, something reminiscent of the day they traveled to the Northern Palace, when the cars stalled and she spoke of feeling an 'old magic' in the air.

Az's voice was grave. "DG, where have you been? There's…something about you. Something clings to you like a scent. Were you in those woods?"

DG swallowed and forced the thoughts of the Old Man deep down. "Yeah, I might have walked along the edge of them. Don't worry, Az, you're probably just over exhausted from the shindig." She tried to smile reassuringly, but Az only studied her harder, as though she were trying to see through her eyes and find the lie.

After a tense moment, Az straightened and sighed. "You and Mr. Cain were out there for a long while, Deege. He came back in with Jeb… you didn't." She watched her sister put up a mask of neutrality on her face, one that DG hoped would hide the hurt. "You fought." Az stated.

DG looked up and shrugged. "What else is new? That's pretty much all he and I seem to do these days." She muttered under her breath, "Although I have a feeling that's about to change…"

Az's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

DG saw a flash of tawny fur as Raw stepped up behind the oldest princess. "Cain gone," he said, clasping his hands together.

Az turned to the Viewer, and then looked back at DG. DG couldn't bear to hold her furry friend's gaze and looked down at the floor, praying he didn't enter her thoughts. Raw's face was sympathetic, as always, but DG thought she saw a little guilt in there too – like he hated to be the bearer of bad news.

"Cain and Jeb leave. Hours ago. Leave with reinforcements for Jeb's army."

DG could feel Az's eyes on her and knew there would be the most horrible, pitying look on her face. _Poor DG. Gone and lost her Tin Man again. Life will be just peachy around the old palace now…_she could almost imagine the words written in her sister's eyes and it infuriated her.

"So, he took the Queen's assignment then?" Az asked.

DG looked up and caught Raw's eyes. He looked down at his paws. "Apparently so," she answered, lifting her chin. "It was what he wanted, wasn't it? He wanted to get out there and make a difference and now he can." She made a move to pass the other two, "He gets to move on with his life, and so do we."

Her tone was cool, aloof and when Az reached out and grabbed her arm as she passed by, DG couldn't keep the glare off her face. All she wanted to do was get out of that stupid dress, crawl in a hole (or her bed, whichever was easier) and try to forget most of the evening. Az wasn't letting her off the hook just yet.

Her sister gave her an incredulous look as she held onto DG's forearm. "Hold on, DG. You're making assumptions when I doubt it was as easy as that. That man doesn't make a move without thinking it through; there must have been a reason he suddenly decided to leave tonight." She let go of her sister and said in a low, authoritative tone. "You told him to go, didn't you?"

DG's face must have given her all the answer she needed. Az softened, "In the name of Ozma, _why,_ Deege?"

DG'd had about enough of the third degree, and she could tell where this was heading. Az had the same look on her face as she did in the car, when she insinuated that Cain was more than just DG's guardian. Everyone was assuming and insinuating about things when they had no right.

The young princess widened her stance defiantly. "Yeah, I did. You of all people should understand that it's never good to stay where you aren't wanted, and where you don't want to be anyway." She didn't mean to cause the flash of hurt that crossed Az's eyes, but she was tired and cold and fed up with the pity party. Cain, at least, had the balls to tell her to grow up, wipe the mope off her face and get on with life.

She was going to take his advice.

"He made me realize that I can't change what I am, where I am… or any of this," she gestured around her. "So I'm going to accept that. Cain didn't want to be stuck here, and I don't need a guardian that wants to be anywhere but with me… not that I _need_ a full-time guardian in the first place. It ends up working out best for both of us."

Raw made to reach for her, but DG sidestepped his touch. "DG, that not-"

"Please, for the love of _God_, don't tell me that it's not true, Raw. People seem to have a hard time telling the truth around here. Everyone sees things through rose-colored glasses – how they want them to be instead of how they really are. Cain, at least, always told it like it was."

"That's nonsense. We try to help each other through the hard times, by lessening the pain, even if it that means sugarcoating the truth," tried Az.

DG huffed a laugh. "If I've learned anything from being here, it's that the truth hurts. And sometimes it's necessary." Unbidden, Cain's words reentered her head.

"_I know my place, I accept it. I wish to God you'd do the same."_

"Cain was right," DG said finally, starting back down the hall and away from her sister and her friend. She knew they'd hear her words and she didn't care. They needed to understand and accept as much as she did. She'd done the right thing telling him to leave. She didn't need him; she needed to learn to rely on herself for once.

"He told me to move on… so I'm going to."

* * *

The ride back to Finaqua was quiet, mostly because DG was fighting a headache, while Az and Glitch entertained themselves playing chess in the seat across from her. The board was tiny – almost travel size – something Glitch had come up with, obviously. It sat between the two, who angled themselves to face each other. Glitch had designed the board with groves around the edges of the colored squares to hold the pieces in place as the car jostled around.

Every once in a while, out of the corner of her eye, DG caught Az moving her piece with her magic. She'd been slowly testing her magical muscle, although too much taxed her worn out body. Glitch protested as she claimed another one of his knights.

DG rubbed her temple as she leaned up against the doorframe. She hadn't slept. The Old Man's proposition rattled around in her head. She wanted to get her magic flowing again and she knew he'd teach her things Tutor wouldn't dream of. The idea of being able to make a short trip back home, just to center herself a little, and then come straight back was intoxicating. She might even learn enough to be able to turn the tide against the Longcoat factions once and for all – to heal her scarred kingdom.

But she'd have to find the damn book. _In a place that isn't a place? What the hell is with these people and their riddles?_ DG chewed her lip. She'd only been in the library at Finaqua once, and not by choice. Tutor had sent her in there to find a historical reference or something and DG was distracted by the maps of the O.Z. instead. _Why does everything have to be so complicated here? _

"Check," Az said.

DG looked over to find Glitch deep in thought; his king was in trouble. Az sat primly in the seat, watching her opponent with detached interest.

"Glitch," DG propped her head on her hand, her elbow on the windowsill, "Does the Finaquan library have an old section, somewhere apart from the rest of the books?"

Glitch rubbed his chin, still staring at the chessboard. "Sure," he said, distractedly. "It's where all the really ancient books of the Zone are kept. It's more of a vault really."

"Under lock and key, no doubt?"

"Of course," he said, moving a piece.

DG rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Naturally," she muttered.

"But _you_ can get in, doll," he stated brightly. "Anyone of royal blood can get past the magical wards." DG straightened in her seat, her interest piqued. "I don't know why you'd want to though, Princess, most of the books in there are little more than moth-eaten tomes written in a dozen different languages." Glitch watched Az's move and grin to himself. He countered her move and looked up triumphantly.

She didn't have to read the thing, just deliver it. DG sat back and thought for a second. "I have to use my magic to get past the wards?" That would be a problem, since her Light wasn't exactly too bright or cooperative lately.

Glitch blinked at her, thinking. "I suppose so. Or maybe the wards simply sense who you are and let you pass. Magic really isn't my thing, doll face. I'm more into hard science." Az moved another piece without touching it, the tiny piece of marble floating over his king and knocking it aside. "Hey," Glitch spluttered.

"Check mate." Az grinned.

DG mused over his words. Getting past the front door might not be a problem, but finding the Oraculum's hiding spot was a whole new can of worms. _How do you find a place, that isn't really a place?_

"You wouldn't happen to know where the entrance to the old section is by any chance, would you, Glitch?"

The royal advisor and the eldest princess both pinned DG with intrigued looks. Glitch leaned forward and smirked. "All right, cupcake, what's the angle?"

DG had to smile. Sometimes Glitch sounded so thoroughly Other Side and it was strangely comforting. "Nothing," she answered blithely. "Just wondering where I could find some more information on the O.Z.'s history. If I'm going to learn to run this joint, I'd better learn all that I can."

Glitch eyed her for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay. I'll show you when we get there."

DG noticed Az's knowing look. She hoped her sister would just assume her wayward little sis was only accepting her role and choosing to prepare for it, and leave it at that.

* * *

Glitch made good on his promise. Once they arrived, without incident, at the Southern Palace, he showed her to the library. They wound their way through the stacks; DG contended with déjà vu from her few free evenings spent at the college library back in Kansas. It smelled like dust and old paper, and the further back they went, the dimmer the light was.

Soon the pathway was lit by a few straggling bulbs spread out at uneven intervals, and DG wondered if they were even still in the library at all. Glitch finally stopped and turned back to her.

"Here it is, Princess. The restricted section of the library."

The door ahead of him was solid metal. The frame was wooden; sigils and odd markings were carved into it. DG squinted at them before eyeing the menacing looking door. She glanced back at her friend.

"There's no handle." The door was smooth – no knob or lock anywhere to be found.

"Maybe the opening mechanism is on the other side," Glitch supplied, studying the door. When DG raised a skeptical brow at him, he looked down, embarrassed. "I've never actually been _in_ the restricted section. I'd only heard about it, when I was here before." He's face clouded, "At least, I _think_ I'd heard about it before…"

DG shook her head, while Glitch scratched his in thought. _Great. For all we know this could be the back door to the kitchen. _

The princess sighed and reached toward the door, intending to push on it, when the sigils in the wooden frame lit up with a blazing blue light. DG froze; terrified she'd set off a boobytrap. An awful groan escaped from the metal door as it slid to the side. Glitch clutched DG's arm, protectively coming to her side as they peered inside.

Rows and rows of wooden selves, much older than the ones in the library, filled a cavernous room. Cobwebs and dust clung like a thick mist, but wafted into the air when agitated by their movement. DG could see that no one had been in the room in an age; their footprints etched into the dust-covered floor were the only recent evidence of human activity.

"Okay," she breathed, cautiously taking stock of their surroundings. "That was too simple. The big ax pendulum should be swinging down to lop off our heads any second."

Her joke fell into the dead air, but Glitch let out a high, slightly hysterical laugh. "Nice one, doll. Good joke." DG pulled away from him into the murk toward the wracks of books. "Uh…you _were_ joking, _right_?"

Most of the titles on the spines of the books were illegible. DG blew out a sigh that kicked up more dust. Glitch coughed and batted away the clouds.

"Do any of these things say _Oraculum_ on them?" She asked.

Glitch wiped some dust off a stack of enormous books the size of atlases. "Not that I can see. Is that what you're looking for?"

DG paused, choosing her words. "Yeah, Tutor mentioned it might be a good read for me." Luckily, Glitch rarely saw an ulterior motive around every corner.

They spent the next ten minutes moving about the room, straining to read the titles by the meager light cast by the two bulbs that had lit themselves upon their entry. DG was already getting impatient. Glitch had found something interesting – but almost every book interested him – and was flipping through it on an old wooden table.

"Why can't there be a sign that says: _'Oraculum Section this way – have your library card ready!'_ and make things easier?" She muttered sarcastically.

Glitch snickered from somewhere behind the stacks. DG looked down at her hand, which was barely visible in the dark. _It'd be nice if I still had that mark that opened…pretty much everything._ She frowned and closed her eyes, summoning her Light from the depths of her being. She might have to use her magic to find the Oraculum, so priming the juices seemed like a good idea.

To her surprise, a pale orb of light formed in her hand. DG's surprise nearly caused her to break her concentration, and her head started pounding something awful. The Light pulsed, dimming and brightening as though it were gasping for life. DG struggled to hold onto it, sweat forming at her brow from exertion.

An orange glow flashed in the distance, down the corridor and to the right. DG looked up and saw it just as her Light winked out. She let out a breath of disappointment, before making her way to the source of the pale orange glow. She turned down yet another hallway; one side was stone, the other was lined with books that went from the floor up so high they disappeared into the abyss of blackness where the ceiling should have been.

Carved into the wood of the shelf was the same swirling-eye design Father Vue had branded DG with upon her arrival in the Zone. It glowed faintly, beckoning her. DG studied it, and the books on the shelf above the symbol. Nothing said _Oraculum_.

"Find something?" Glitch appearing by her side sent her heart into arrhythmia. She jolted, and then shot him a withering glare.

DG looked at her blank palm, then back at the symbol. "Oh well, it's worth a shot." She held up her hand, facing the symbol, and concentrated again. Her magic was like a string floating in a breeze just out of her reach and she strained to reach out and grab it.

Just as she was about to give up, Glitch whispered, "C'mon DG."

A tiny, fleeting spark of Light ignited on her palm. The eye-sigil glowed bright for a moment as if answering it, before both lights went out. Glitch and DG watched, as the thick book right above the sigil carving seemed to stretch, growing wider. Their mouths dropped open in shock: the book's sides stretched as though it were absorbing the books that flanked it. Then, it split down its seam and parted.

In the space where the original book parted, a spine of another book appeared, sprouting from nothingness. It was made of red leather and tall, almost not fitting on the shelf. DG glanced at her friend, astonished. Glitch's eyes were saucers. Carefully, DG plucked the book from its spot. Once it was removed, the other books reshuffled themselves as if nothing had ever happened.

In gold leaf lettering across the front, DG read _Oraculum_. "This is it!"

"Nifty little hiding place it has there," Glitch muttered as they made their way to a nearby table. "No librarians I know shelve books like that."

DG started flipping through the pages; some feeling like they'd crumble under her fingers and some so faded she couldn't make out the words. Most was in an archaic looking picture language. DG narrowed her eyes. She'd seen symbols like that somewhere before. _The cave! They were on the outside of the cave_

"I figured you weren't after just any old history book." Azkadellia's voice startled the two so badly Glitch jumped into a fighting stance on instinct.

"Oh," he breathed. "It's only you, Azkadee."

She walked up to the table, looking pensive. She wore a grey top and a long black skirt, which she was careful to hold up off the dirty floor. DG noticed that her own white top and brown pants were covered in dust and dirt.

Az looked at the book over DG's shoulder. "You know this language, don't you Az?"

Az pursed her lips in thought. "A little. I can only make out pieces of it."

DG kept flipping through the book while Glitch and Az looked on. A picture, rendered in what looked to be charcoal, caught DG's eye.

A young girl, dressed in a skirt and pinafore – her hair braided into pigtails – stared out at the princess. DG leaned in, recognition forming her lips into an 'o'. The girl had a small smile on her face, as though she knew a spectacular secret. DG saw that she was wearing some sort of special slippers; she had a good idea what color they'd be if the picture had not been in black and white. The trio flanking the girl in the photo, however, were not familiar to DG. A scarecrow stood to her left – hands on his hips and a rather goofy grin on his face. To her right stood a lion – the majesty of his flowing mane offset by the bow tied on top of his head.

The figure behind the girl stood in a stance DG knew very well. His metallic shoulders were held square with the width of his legs. She could see that one hand was resting on the girl's shoulder, while the other held an ax at the ready at his side. His countenance was stoic behind the girl, as though he were watching over her. But DG could see his eyes in the black and grey on the paper. They were gentle, kind. He even had a soft smile on his metallic lips. He was made of tin or some other metal – almost like an antique robot – but DG could see that he had heart. It emanated from his features right off the page.

"Who is that?" Glitch wondered aloud.

"The Grey Gale," DG said in a hushed tone. When Az looked at her with wide eyes, DG explained what had happened in the tomb of the Grey Gale. "Our greatest ancestor, apparently," she said to Az.

"I've heard parts of her tale," Az murmured, looking at the rendering. "These must be the three who helped her save the Realm."

DG felt a small smile curve her lips. "I've always heard history repeats itself."

Glitch studied the picture. "They do look a little familiar to me. Especially this skinny fellow here."

DG smiled wider as she turned the page. A section of text was highlighted in red ink. It was a flowing script and she turned to Az.

The oldest princess studied it for a moment, and shook her head confused. "I'm not sure. I'm only getting bits and pieces of it. Perhaps it's referring to the picture on the other page, the Grey Gale."

"What's it talking about?"

Az scrunched her eyes in concentration. "I think it's talking about someone – a girl – feeling the bite of rejection. Something about her…withering from the pain…"

DG tilted her head. "That's cheery."

Az reached forward and touched the page. Her fingers had just grazed the red ink of the passage when the heavy book snapped shut like a steel trap on its own. All three jumped back, Az snatching her hand away just in time. The force of the book closing, as heavy as it was, would have broken a finger or two for sure.

"Well," Glitch said after a moment or two, eyeing the book, "I'm guessing this book has issues with dog-earing the pages too. I hope you remember what you read because this thing is prickly about being touched." He looked at DG, who was chewing her lip in consternation. "Except for you, doll face." She looked up at him and he continued. "You were able to touch the pages. You flipped through it and it never had any objections."

"Weird." DG had an ominous feeling in her gut. This book guided her to it, allowed her to find it and only allowed _her_ to touch it. The Old Man's image, his raspy chuckle, chilled her psyche.

"Deege, I'm not sure you should fool around with this thing." Az was backing away from the table as if a deadly snake was coiled on top. "I can feel its magic. And it's not exactly bright and cheerful."

DG felt her stomach turn over. Az had always had a connection to the darker side of the magical world. Even before her melding with the Witch, she seemed to have a lingering sixth sense about those sorts of things. DG remembered how her sister had been the one to feel the warning when they discovered the cave, how she'd kept trying to convince DG that something wasn't right. For a moment, DG choked on the memory and the guilt. But she managed to push it down.

If this book enabled her to learn more about the O.Z., and through the Old Man she could tap into the Realm's magic, she might be able to right some of the wrongs that were set into motion that day in the cave.

DG picked up the book and held it carefully. _No shocks. No magical blow-back. It hasn't eaten my hand off yet. So far so good. _

"It's just a book, Az," DG said as they made their way out of the vault. She tried to sound reassuring, but came up a little short. "Nothing bad ever came from reading a book."

_**TBC…  
**_

* * *

Now it's **YOUR** turn, **FEED** the **NEED** and **REVIEW**!

Undying gratitude to beta and fic coach, _**Celia Stanton**_ – who's brilliance astounds me in her ability to distract me from this story. Yeah, she's been feeding my muse with Boomtown fiction ideas, while telling me that "_Home_" could wait. Don't flay her like a munchkin, please, I need her.

Also huge thanks to beta-love _**Meredith Paris**_, who still asks for chapters in her inbox.

I hope to have had CH 10 halfway or completely done by the time this is posted, so the wait won't be as long for updates. Real life doesn't knock at my door; it kicks it in and takes hostages. **STAY TUNED!**


	10. Progression to Obsession

**Disclaimer**: See previous chapters. I'm still riding a horse and not a _Tin Man_, if that tells you anything…

**A/N: **If there were words to express how sorry I am for the hiatus of this, I'd say them here. But there aren't and I know my suckdome knows no bounds. I can only hope that you enjoy this and will continue to review and let me know if you're still enjoying it. Or if you've had to go back and reread the whole thing to remember what the heck was going on. Also, poetry is NOT my strong suit, so don't laugh at my clues that attempt to rhyme.

**Chapter 10 "Progression to Obsession"**

The second sun dipped below the mountaintops, setting the sky ablaze in reds and oranges while the first moon slowly rose from its slumber and lifted its head above the peaks. After spending time in the frigid north, the warmth of the spring-like climate of Finaqua seemed to awaken the princess's senses. DG felt every breath of air, heard every warble of the evening larks as though she'd just emerged from an ice cave – intensely and urgent.

It had been almost two weeks since her return to the south, since her discovery of the Oraculum. Most of that time had been spent scrutinizing each section of the cumbersome tome, but to little avail. She could only make out bits and pieces of the histories, usually only if they had pictures, and the rest of the book was an illegible mystery. She was afraid to ask Azkadellia for any more help; her sister had already had an admittedly odd experience with the book, and DG didn't feel like listening to any more of Az's warnings.

It was easier for DG to sequester herself away with the book, taking most of her meals into her room and shutting the door to all around her. The few lessons she attended with Tutor were tense and often ended in a shouting match.

"You're not even trying anymore, Princess!" He blustered one rainy morning, when DG had failed to move a flowerpot from one side of the atrium to the other.

DG wiped the beads of sweat from her brow, before jamming her fists onto her hips and glaring at her shape-shifting teacher. "Yes I was! You think I'm sweating just because it's a little humid in here? What do you want from me?"

Tutor seemed nonplussed by her recent terse mood. "I don't know what's come over you lately, DG. It's like you don't even want to learn anymore." He tried a different tact, and put a hand on her shoulder. "You have to keep trying. If you don't keep utilizing your magic, it really _will_ fade."

"More than it already has? Can't see how that would be possible," she muttered under her breath.

DG had noticed that she seemed to be more on edge as of late, especially since they'd returned from the vault in the restricted section of the library. All of her spare time had been spent combing through the Oraculum, jotting down ideas on the things she understood, and making notes on the things she didn't for future research. Holed up in the library, she referenced spells and histories, anything that might help her understand what the book's importance was to the Old Man.

DG's sleep was frequently interrupted with dreams of her home in Kansas, of the Old Man from the woods beckoning her with the promise of returning home…of Cain. She hadn't heard a word from him since the night of the Mid-Winter Ball, and for all she knew, he could be on the other side of the Realm.

Far away from _her_. Where he obviously wanted to be.

DG's stomach rolled uncomfortably at the thought of the Tin Man whose face she'd been fairly successful at banishing from her thoughts; relegating his countenance to occupying only a few minutes a day, instead of the majority of her waking moments. She knew he was with Jeb, and that the youngest Cain would watch out for the older one, although it wouldn't have killed Cain to send a note saying they'd made it to the Imperial encampment.

She thought, perhaps, that Jeb had sent a telegram a couple of weeks after their return to Finaqua, but if so, it went straight to the Queen because she never saw it. After their last words, DG knew she shouldn't expect any Hallmark cards from Cain.

The youngest princess slumped into her chair in the atrium, as Tutor mentioned something about taking a little break. A servant brought in a tray of tea and crackers for them. While her teacher partook of the refreshments, DG felt a buzzing sensation at the base of her skull.

It was the same sensation she'd grown accustomed to when in the presence of the Oraculum. In truth, she rarely let the book out of her sight. It was under her pillow at night, and in her satchel that she kept slung over one shoulder during the day. Idly, she reached down and touched the red leather binding of the magical tome.

Her fingers tingled. Lately, DG had taken to jotting down, on a separate sheet of paper, anything that sounded like a spell for future experimentation. Angling her body away from Tutor, DG plucked a few sheets of the same paper out of her bag, carefully unfolding them in her lap.

Only two other people knew she had the Oraculum, and she wasn't about to make Tutor the third. Az already didn't trust the damn thing, and Tutor was sure to confiscate it before she could get it to the Old Man.

Not that he seemed to be in a huge rush to get the thing from her. He'd given her the 'don't call me, I'll call you' line in the forest that night, but he hadn't called. And DG had been vigilant for any telltale glowing light messengers around the palace. Text message by magic glow-bug. DG figured his method of getting her attention was no weirder than people sending each other virtual nudges from their computers to cell phones on the Other Side.

DG scanned the sheet of paper in her hands, looking over the words she'd scribbled the night before. She'd found something that looked like a defensive spell and had been itching to try it out. But she'd spent an hour trying to sound it out, only to have it sound like some garbled form of Ewok language.

"_Daa-va-tee oreh-dahnee zeev-le-jenjee_…" DG licked her lips, trying to form the words. "_Mock'kay mi_."

Nothing happened. DG frowned and glanced back at Tutor, who was sipping his tea and looking at a book in his hand. _Okay_, she thought, _what am I doing wrong?_ Just then, the Old Man's voice seemed to slip into her consciousness and tickled the inside of her head with a quiet humor.

_Think about where your magic comes from: Mother Zone. Allow her to guide you, child. _

_Maybe it's in the pronunciation. Maybe that's where I'm screwing up_. DG closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles. She reached within her being to find her magic. She thought about all that the Zone encompassed, and allowed herself to remember the feeling of her hand against the tree in the Papay field. The Zone had channeled her Light that day, causing a reaction that DG herself had no control over. If she could only tap into that flow again…

The words sprang to her mind again and her body thrummed for a moment.

Then she heard Tutor scream.

* * *

Her mouth hung open, useless, as she looked around her. DG had nearly fallen out of her chair when she heard Tutor let out a mangled, terrified scream. She'd whirled around to see her usually impassive teacher ashen and clinging to the table next to him for dear life.

"What?" DG squeaked, watching Tutor closely. "What happened?"

Tutor's eyes bugged as he shifted them around the room, and DG followed his eye line. The atrium was large; glass walls to allow in the suns' light to reach the myriad of Ozian plants that had been cultivated to grow inside the Southern Palace. Large flat green leaves created a tropical feel, while hundreds of flowering plants dotted the floors in ornate pots.

To the princess's horror, everything that had been green and living was now brown, shriveled and very much dead. The trees that had grown nearly to the glass ceiling, reaching out as if yearning to be free of the gigantic terrarium, started dropping their lifeless leaves. A slow rain of dead plant matter began to fall, and DG felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.

"What the hell…" she breathed.

It was as if something had sucked the life out of everything in the room, save for her and Tutor. DG had the absurd thought that this was some sort of joke. A dream, perhaps. Maybe she'd just dozed off in the chair and hadn't woken up yet.

Tutor silently crept up beside her. "This is some sort of dark spell. It has to be."

DG swallowed and looked over at him. "What do you mean?" Something black and slippery crawled up her spine, causing goose bumps to erupt on her skin. She secretly folded the sheet of paper with the jumbled words and surreptitiously stuffed it into her jeans pocket.

The old man was still looking around the room in muted horror. "Look at this, DG. Something caused these plants to wither within the span of a few seconds. As if their life force was _swallowed_." Then he looked down at her for the first time, his face pinched. "The only time I've ever seen magic such as this was in the presence of the Witch."

_Oh_. _Shit_. DG's throat suddenly felt like cotton. Her knees felt a little wobbly, and there was something pressing down on her chest. She bent and retrieved her satchel, pressing it to her side.

"Well," she said, a little shaky, "I'm fairly sure it isn't the Witch. So, it must have been something else. Maybe it was an accident?"

Tutor looked at her as if she had just grown a second head.

"No, really. What if, say for example, someone…somewhere was trying to do a spell and it backfired." She edged away from him a half step, trying to sound convincing, but with the way her voice was shaking, she was only coming off as a little manic. "What if the spell just, I don't know, didn't go the way it should have. And ended up here."

"Ended up here," her teacher repeated, lowering his head and raising a brow.

_Not convinced. C'mon Deege, you've got to spin something better than that._ She fiddled with the strap on her bag, the Oraculum within it suddenly feeling like an anvil strapped to her shoulder.

A bushel of dead leaves tumbled to the ground beside her, causing the princess to jump to the side. "No, I mean…what if it was like a bullet, ricocheting off something and hitting the atrium. Like…like a stray magical bullet or something…"

She winced internally at the stupidity of that statement. _A magical stray bullet? Seriously?_

But Tutor's face became thoughtful. "I don't know, Highness. Who ever conjured the spell would have to be nearby. Something of this magnitude cannot flow over long distances."

DG looked away, worrying her lip. She needed to get out of there before her shape-shifting teacher decided to take notice of the bag on her shoulder, whose strap she now had in a vice grip. Pretending to inspect the dead flora around her, DG started in the general direction of the exit, when the door flung open and Glitch barreled in, looking like he was ready to do battle.

"What happened? Is somebody hurt? Who screamed?" He swung around in a circle, fists ready. After a second, he looked around the atrium. "_Great Gale_," he breathed, "What happened in here?"

DG supplied, trying to keep her tone light, "Must've been a magical mishap somewhere."

"Mishap?" Glitch touched the trunk of one of the trees and the whole thing fell apart. The advisor looked like a startled hare, leaping out of the way of the falling plant refuse. "This is _some_ mishap, doll face."

DG was just about to make it to the door when Tutor called out, "You haven't been trying spells I expressly forbade you from studying, have you, Princess?"

The young woman froze. "Noooo," she drawled as innocently as she could.

She started toward the door again, hoping her statement would placate her teacher, when a hand on her shoulder caused her heart to leap into her throat.

"You've got that book, don't you?" Glitch was at her side, leaning down to her ear.

Tutor had moved farther into the atrium, looking around and shaking his head, and DG wetted her lips before looking her friend in the eye.

She clutched the satchel to her. "What of it?"

"You've shut yourself away with that book for weeks now, DG." Glitch's face held Ambrose's firmness, but she could see her friend's worry in the lines around his eyes. "I know that thing is a spell book of some kind. And from what Azkadee said, it isn't _happy_ _magic_." He guided her through the door, but when she tried to walk away, Glitch held onto her elbow firmly.

"You've been playing with some kind of spell in that book, haven't you," he pressed.

"Is that a question?"

"Just answer me."

DG absently reached into her bag and withdrew the red leather tome. She clutched it to her chest possessively and tilted her head. "Define _playing with_."

Glitch crossed his arms and looked annoyed. "Look, cupcake. I got my brain sewed back into my head, but it wasn't yesterday."

DG would have snickered at that, if she hadn't been feeling more and more paranoid that Glitch (or anyone else for that matter) would take the Oraculum from her. There was something oddly addictive about it; like a good mystery one couldn't put down. While she couldn't understand half of it, she had, however, learned a great deal about her ancestors. And the spells within it had to be more interesting than spinning toys.

"You've changed, kid. Ever since we got back from the Ball and we found that book, you haven't been yourself." Glitch softened his pose and implored her, "Me and Az, we're worried about you. And since Cain isn't here–"

"What does any of this have to do with him?" She snapped. It was bad enough everyone was watching her, smothering her, taking note of every move she made and what her moods were every second of the day. It was bad enough that Ahamo and the Queen had tried to talk to her after they returned to the south, and DG nearly choked on the awkwardness.

It was even worse that it seemed like everyone thought she was pining for the Tin Man – whom she refused to even mention. DG hadn't been sleeping, had hardly been eating – every moment spent searching for answers to questions she couldn't even define yet within the Oraculum. And now her friend had just snapped her camel's back.

"I'm so sick of everyone thinking that every shift in my mood has something to do with Wyatt-freaking-_Cain_. News flash, Glitch – he's _gone_! And I can take care of myself."

She felt her cheeks burn with emotions she'd held inside. "Nobody thinks I can handle the truth, so they just sugar-coat it. Or, on the flip side of the coin, people want me to grow up and accept things. But when I do, all I get for my troubles is you guys fretting over the fact that _'I'm not myself lately'_!" She rubbed her forehead and sighed when Glitch look down at his shoes. "You can't have it both ways. _I_ can't be both ways."

He nodded. "And you can't have friends who love you and not expect them worry about you when there's obviously something _hinky_ about that book, DG." He pointed at it. "Look at the way you're holding it. Your holding it so tightly to you, you're going to have the title imprinted on your chest. I bet you even sleep with it next to your bed."

"So?" DG suddenly realized how juvenile that sounded.

"And people call _me_ eccentric," Glitch huffed.

DG edged away from him. "Look, Glitch. I'm sorry if you and my sister have been worried about me. But I'm fine! Really." She even tried to smile to allay his tense look. "It's just that this book…might answer some the questions I've had since landing in this circus sideshow."

"Then why don't you let Az and me help you, DG? We might be able to decode that thing together."

No, that wouldn't work. If she was going to get the Old Man to keep his part of the deal, she had to find the Codex that referred to the next artifact. And explaining to her sister and Glitch about why she was on this scavenger hunt (and in particular, for whom) didn't sound like such a bright idea. They'd try to stop her for sure. Or worse. Tell her parents.

Keeping her research a secret was best.

"No," she said, reaching out to lay a reassuring hand on Glitch's arm, "that's alright. I think I'm going to give this book a break for a while, anyway."

Glitch gave her a skeptical look, raising a brow very much like Tutor had done when she spun her "stray magic bullet" yarn. So, DG smiled woodenly and said, "Really. See, I'm putting it away." She slipped the heavy volume back in her satchel.

"Out of sight, out of mind," the princess lied. Hitching the bag up on her shoulder, DG strode away, leaving the former advisor to watch after her.

"Whatever you say, Deege," Glitch muttered doubtfully.

* * *

The lamp at her desk cast a diffused golden glow throughout her cavernous room, as DG sat hunched over the leather-bound Oraculum. Scarcely noticing the time, or the fact that she hadn't eaten since her light snack earlier in the day, DG pinched the bridge of her nose in weary frustration.

She'd been through the book backwards and forwards and still hadn't seen anything referring to a ruby goblet, a plain goblet, or any other special dishware. How was she supposed to move forward in her search if she couldn't find the stupid clues?

Idly, she flipped a section of pages through her hands. Her mind went back to the spell she'd unwittingly conjured in the atrium. Shuddering, DG had a new appreciation for the phrase, "words have power." Apparently in the O.Z., they have power even if you _think_ them.

The same, inky, slimy feeling crept up her back again, and DG suddenly thought that maybe Glitch was right. This book didn't have a 'happy' vibe – certainly some of the things she'd found in the histories she'd read were anything but Disney material.

But the Old Man had assured her that he could teach her how to harness the Zone's magic and utilize it. She'd be able to go home again. She might even be able to fix some of the calamities she'd set into motion as a child. _Better late than never, right?_

She ran a finger along the edge of the book, and gooseflesh erupted on her arm. Maybe handing this book over to the Old Man wasn't such a good idea, after all. He definitely wasn't some jovial old codger, looking to sit her down with a '_once upon a time_' story and a warm glass of milk.

DG leaned over, folding her arm underneath her head, and sighed. Maybe all this worrying, deflecting and hiding was taking its toll. She was seeing conspiracies around every corner. Yawning, the princess told herself she'd only rest her eyes for a moment.

She was back in the forest. The white of the snow on the ground starkly contrasted with the blackness of the woods around her, and DG hugged herself with her arms. There was no sense of wonder; no impetus to explore tickled her psyche.

Dead silence greeted her but the echo of her heart thumping in her breast was nearly deafening.

"Not giving up on me, are you dear child?"

The heart that thundered in her chest one minute, stopped cold the next, as the Old Man's raspy voice floated to her ear. DG slid her gaze cautiously to her left, where the figure of the shriveled creature materialized.

Those haunting, filmy eyes stared out from beneath the cowl. DG gulped down her fear. "I don't know what I'm looking for."

A flash of yellowed teeth. "But of course you do, my dear. You already discovered the power of the Oraculum, when coupled with your own Light. You've tasted the magic, seen what it can do…"

"That spell killed nearly everything around it," she said hollowly. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

The Old Man shrugged on shoulder. "You are simply untrained in the intricacies of thaumaturgy. I would surmise that caution should be taken when uttering certain words. Words can be very powerful, whether uttered by the tongue or the mind, as you have experienced."

_Yeah. Your timing with the warnings leaves a lot to be desired_, she thought.

"Your friends have warned you against the research," he hissed. "What sort of friends are these that do not want you to better yourself?"

DG lowered her chin, looking off to the side. "I'm beginning to think they're right. This whole thing is starting to scare me."

In the blink of an eye, the Old Man had her by the arm. His claw-like fingers dug into her flesh, and little pools of blood welled up around the punctures. DG didn't even have time to breathe.

"Scare you? If it is _fright_ that you wish, Princess, let me show you what may happen if you go back on our little deal," he whispered.

DG let out a half-cry before her mind was assaulted with images. She saw her home in Kansas, rotten and overgrown. A travel storm appeared in the field, and Longcoats poured out of it. She thought for a moment that this was a flashback to her sojourn to the Realm, until a face appeared among the Longcoats trudging toward her town.

Zero.

He was leading them toward her hometown with a malevolent determination.

"With the O.Z. snatched from his grasp, I am sure that Zero and his men will be looking for…_other_ realms to conquer. Perhaps one that is unprotected by magic."

DG struggled to breathe as she watched scenarios of Zero plundering her small town. "No…that's-that's impossible."

"Is it?" The Old Man chuckled. "Happy endings do not occur much on the Other Side, do they Princess? But, perhaps Zero need not travel such a distance to live out his plans."

A flash and DG stared into a scene of Zero torturing someone. Someone with shocking blond hair…and a tan leather coat.

"No!" She wasn't sure the sound of screaming was in her head or erupting from her throat.

"These are but two of the possible futures to come if you do not keep up your end of our bargain, my child."

DG found herself choking, on her knees in the snow at the Old Man's feet. "You'd…you'd let that happen?" She coughed, her body trembling. "You're helping the Longcoat factions, aren't you?"

"Perhaps I am, and perhaps I am not," he purred. "But I guarantee you that one of those two futures will come to pass if you don't find me what I need."

"And if I get you your artifacts?"

He touched her cheek with one, spindly finger. "Then all will be set right. You shall have what you need to tap into the Zone's power. Perhaps even the one your heart longs for will be safely at your side."

DG cringed as the Old Man tightened his grip on her upper arm. "Do as I have instructed, Your Highness, and you shall have all that you desire."

She started to pull against him, tears blurring her vision until she wasn't sure where the old wizard was, but she still felt trapped. DG let out a choking scream just as she awoke in her chair; her arms splaying out in defense of unseen terrors and the Oraculum clattered to the floor at her feet.

The princess tried to breathe, but her lungs felt like they'd been compressed under water. She gasped in her breaths for a few moments. Her face and neck were drenched in sweat and every inch of her was trembling.

"God," she whispered, running her hands through her matted hair.

Bending over, DG noticed the book had fallen open to a section she swore she hadn't read through. Gingerly, she knelt on the floor next to the book and inspected the page. It was full of sigils and runes that she didn't recognize from her previous studying sessions. The ink that the words were written in seemed to glow.

Flipping back, DG looked to see if she had simply skipped this page when going through the book the first hundred times, but she had definitely never seen this page before. She moved the book into the light to read the short passage, only to discover that when the light hit the page, the words disappeared.

Squinting, DG ran her hand over the blank page. She looked where the book had originally fallen: to the side of her desk, in the shadows.

_Couldn't hurt to try_, she figured. Walking back to the darker side of her room, DG held the Oraculum out until the page fell into shadow. The green letters reappeared.

"Let there be _dark_," she murmured.

Carefully, DG let the words she'd searched for during the past two weeks glide off her lips in an awestruck tone:

"_In the Shining City it was built atop her throne,  
__Where her minions once took flight,  
__Beneath the Deeps, the ruby chalice waits,  
__For the one who'll defeat the darkness with her Light."_

* * *

Azkadellia stood outside the enormous wooden door and sighed. She'd heard her younger sister cry out in the night, and now she stood in her robe and slippers, leaning slightly on her cane as she listened through her sister's door.

Her face was like a marble statue, inscrutable and pale in the wane moonlight streaming in from the outer hall window, as the inventor came to her side.

"Az?" Glitch touched her hand.

Az turned to him, her features melting into concern. "We have to help her, Glitch. That book – it's evil. And it's calling to her, I can feel it."

Glitch looked to the door, his worried eyes traveling over the wood as if he meant to see through it. "I know. I tried to talk to DG earlier, but she blew me off." He held up a letter, and after looking at it, Az seemed to let out a breath of relief.

In his crabbed little scrawl, a name was visible on the parchment envelope: _Wyatt Cain_.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

**TBC…**

**Time to READ AND REVIEW and let me know what YOU think!**

* * *

**AN2: **The spell DG uses is actually in a mix of Serbian and Slovic. Ewok language was an ancient form of Mongolian, (according to Wiki) and the internet translator didn't offer Mongolian. It means, roughly, (_and I mixed up the words so this isn't a true translation_): "Give thy life force unto me." Or something like that.

Huge thanks as always to betas of extraordinary skill: _**Celia Stanton, SpikesSweetie**_ and _**Meredith Paris**_.


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